When the Moon Howls
by RainynDawn
Summary: Her eyes caught the moon gleaming at her between the branches of the trees overhead. Eyes flittering, the grey spots splashed together until a wolf howled from the white sphere…
1. Chapter One: New Moon

DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.

Beta: MoonyNZ

_**Dear reader…let us first pretend that a large chunk of the 7th**__** book NEVER happened, though the war is over. Let us also remember that I will be taking many liberties to make this story function. I have to make a number of alterations to even begin to attempt to make this story make sense. I'm also toying with the relationship between a man and the wolf inside of him… kind of like two separate beings that must learn to live with each other. You'll see what I mean. That being said, may I present…**_

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter One: New Moon**

The world tilted to the side in a dizzying effect. The loud thumping of her heart echoing in her ears was beginning to deafen her as she stumbled for the fifth time, her hands scraping harshly against the unforgiving floor of the forest. Rivulets of dark red liquid mixed with the dirt caking her skin. Her head crashed to the ground, a piece of wood from a fallen branch driving deep into the exposed skin of her arm.

She rolled over onto her back, desperately drawing in deep breaths as she struggled to regain enough control to apparate to safety. Her eyes caught the moon gleaming at her between the branches of the trees overhead. Eyes flittering, the grey spots splashed together until a wolf howled from the white sphere…

_Many moons later…_

The overwhelming smell of the nauseating floral perfume was beginning to irritate her. Hermione shifted slightly to the right, away from the scent, and focused her attention on the whirling couples while plucking at the clinging fabric of the dress she was forced to buy for the occasion.

Five balls in the span of two months. It was beginning to get a bit ridiculous, but with the war finally over and Voldemort defeated, the wizarding world had once more become a joyous place where people were taking every opportunity to celebrate.

Hermione rolled her eyes at that thought. As soon as Voldemort was gone, they had conveniently forgotten about everyone who had given their lives to make it so. Harry Potter was only a name to them now, their saviour and nothing more.

She scoffed softly. At least Harry's name was remembered. Ron had merely become "that youngest Weasley boy, you know, the one that was friends with Harry Potter." Even she was categorised with Harry's name. Not that she minded, of course. She was quite happy to drift through unnoticed by those that would only use her as a poster child if given the opportunity. She was the last of the Golden Trio.

The floral scent wrapped further around her as the person shifted closer. Hermione fought the urge to get up and flee from the room as her eyes darted to the side to find the source of the sickening scent. Hermione was sure it would have been quite lovely had it not been poured on to the point where it was overwhelming.

Her eyes alighted on the lithe form of Fleur as she stood in a circle of women, entertaining them with some story of life in France while inserting comments to the unmarried women about married life. The woman had taken to her role as a wife and, maybe more importantly to the woman herself, the fame she received from fighting in the war.

Disgusted, Hermione stood abruptly and walked along the walls. She kept her eyes diverted from those she passed in order to not be drawn into a conversation. She brushed easily by the new Minister of Magic, slinking back into the shadows with a sigh of relief as she finally escaped that horrid smell.

She leaned back against the wall with a frustrated sigh. She really hated attending these "functions," but she knew that she would receive more grief if she didn't come. It was a hypocritical celebration, though. So many of the guests were those that fought on the other side. The Ministry knew this, and yet the families were still treated like royalty because they bore the oldest wizarding names, and they had the money to help restore the wizarding world to its former ways. The only thing that has really changed, Hermione noted, was that people were no longer scared.

"Hiding?"

The smile flittered easily to her face as she turned toward Remus. He had a few more scars since the last time she had seen him, one particularly nasty one running down his left cheek. He looked tired. The blood that flowed through his veins was becoming resistant to Wolfsbane and, after years of the foul potion, instead of embracing the wolf, Remus fought that side of himself down so strongly that he was wearing himself thin. There were times when he couldn't restrain Moony, though. She had seen when the wolf side was just too dominant for even Remus to control.

"Escaping," Hermione countered softly, "for a brief moment of respite." She let her eyes trail over the people lingering on the dance floor as he leaned against the wall beside her. "I'm not fond of crowds too much anymore."

"Or overwhelming perfumes that leave the scents reeling?"

Hermione allowed herself a small smile as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "That too." Her eyes landed on Fleur once more. She was now hugging Bill to her, trailing her hands through his hair and over his chest while he appeared as if he wasn't even breathing. "Did she bathe in the stuff?"

"She may have," he agreed as he watched the couple too. "I think, though, that if she hangs onto him for any longer, Bill may pass out from not breathing."

Hermione chuckled softly. "He should just breathe through his mouth. He may still be able to smell it, but it wouldn't be _as_ strong."

Remus shifted slightly, glancing over at her. "Maybe, but even then it would be overwhelming for him. Though he wasn't fully infected, the amount of werewolf blood he has in him has effected his senses."

Hermione didn't comment, only nodded as she watched Bill excuse himself and practically flee from his wife and out onto the terrace. Only when he was completely outside did she push herself away from the wall, opening her mouth to give her goodbyes so she could escape, but he beat her to it.

"How about a turn across the dance floor?" he inquired and, before she could refuse, he picked up her hand, easily guiding her toward the centre. He pressed his right hand against her lower back while his left hand engulfed hers, efficiently trapping her in his embrace.

"How is Teddy?" she inquired as he circled them easily across the floor, weaving through the other dancing pairs. She glanced up to see him staring at her intently. Not to be cowed, she continued, "Is he still having trouble sleeping?"

The corner of his lip twitched upward slightly in a small smile. "Sometimes. Andromeda comes over most days to help me with him." He shook his head slightly. "Some days I don't know what I would do if she didn't help."

"You'd be just fine, I'm sure of it." Since Tonks' death, Remus had been struggling with being a single father. She had heard he had spent many nights at his in-laws with baby Teddy. She knew he would often stray away when he was afraid his werewolf half was coming out too strong.

He merely shrugged, his eyes once more staring down into hers. "What about you, Hermione?" he asked softly, his hand giving hers a brief squeeze when she made to pull away slightly.

"What about me?"

"How have you been?" When she went to say "fine" as she always replied when asked, he cut her off. "No one has seen much of you since that final battle, but now that I stop to think about it, you've been different since before the final battle."

She kept her face impassive as she asked, "Different?"

He nodded, leaning forward so his mouth almost brushed her ear, whispering, "Did you know, that each person has a particular scent? The scent rarely varies. Sometimes it'll change if the person has a serious disease or illness, but that change is so minimal it is often missed."

She stiffened slightly in his arms, turning her face so that her nose was almost brushing against his neck. "What's your point, Remus?"

He tilted his head. His mouth now brushed against her ear, her lobe catching in between his parted lips as he whispered, "Your scent has changed, Hermione."

She just stopped herself from pulling away as she allowed herself to relax in his grip, chuckling softly as she easily replied, "I don't see how it could." She pressed herself closer to him to give anyone who may be watching them the image of two good friends enjoying a dance.

His nose nuzzled the base of her neck softly, drawing in her scent as he ran his nose up the column of her throat till his lips rested against her ear once more. "I think you know how it happened," was all he said as his tongue flicked out quickly, tasting the smooth flesh under her ear.

"Remus," she said softly in warning, despite the fact that she was now shivering in his arms and tilting her head to the side in invitation.

"Full moon's almost here," he said, pressing his face into the side of her neck. His right hand applying pressure to her lower back so that she had no choice but to press flush against him. He moved his mouth slowly down her throat, his teeth lightly scraping the skin at the base before nipping at it teasingly.

"Remus, I told you, I can't," she said before he could ask. "It wouldn't be right…" The argument sounded weak even to her, and, sure enough, his retort was quick.

"You didn't seem to mind when Tonks was alive." He bit lightly at her neck, careful not to break any skin. "You came to me, remember."

She remembered very well. It had been the night after she had become lost in the woods. She had been curious, curious enough to seek him out despite the fact that Tonks was asleep in his bed just one floor above them. She had trapped him efficiently in the library- a fitting place she thought- and had played perfectly to what she knew Moony would like. She had lost her innocence that night to the wolf in Remus, and with that her curiosity had been sated and she had kept a strict rule of avoiding the wolf whenever the moon neared the full stage.

"I'm leaving tonight, Remus," she finally answered, rubbing his neck calmingly to keep the wolf at bay. "I have to be somewhere tomorrow and I'll be gone for four days."

"Leave tomorrow," he practically growled against her neck. He pressed himself flush against her, letting her know how much Moony wanted her to stay. "Andromeda is watching Teddy this weekend for me."

"Remus, I really…"

"Where are you really going, Hermione?" he interrupted, his teeth nipping up the side of her neck, stopping just below her ear. "You've disappeared the last five full moons."

"How do you know that?"

"Moony needs you, Hermione," was all he said as his lips began to move down her jaw line. "I went to your flat at all the peek times during the full moon, only you weren't there."

"I've been busy, Remus."

He growled softly, moving his face so that his nose brushed hers, their mouths dangerously close as the robes of a woman being whirled around the dance floor brushed up against Hermione's legs. "Are you avoiding me, Hermione?" His eyes flashed from their light brown colour, to a golden colour- Moony.

"I told you, I've been busy." She stared straight into his eyes, determined not to be intimidated by the severe glint now shining back at her from the golden orbs. She knew he wouldn't hurt her and, though she honestly couldn't explain why, that disappointed her a bit. She had gone to Remus rather than the others for the passion she had been seeking. Instead, she had found a _tame_ werewolf, one that had been beaten into submission over the years.

"We had such fun the last time, Hermione," he purred, his lips lightly brushing the corner of her mouth. "I wasn't rough with you. You purred in my arms, remember? Like a kitten enjoying the way she was being stroked. We could have that again. I've taken my potion so I know I won't hurt you…"

She sighed softly and planted her hands against his chest, applying enough pressure to put a little space between them. "I have to leave tonight, Remus. I'm sorry."

He let her slip out of his grasp, but she had taken no more than a few steps before his hand grasped hers, pulling her back to face him. His face was serious now as he stared down at her. "Your scent."

She raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest. "What about it?"

"It's not a cause from that night is it?"

She kept all emotion from her face, a skill she was beginning to master, as she stared up at him. "What do you mean?"

He frowned, apparently a bit put out by her lack of understanding as he stepped closer, leaning down toward her. "Are you pregnant, Hermione?"

"God, no," she replied instantly, and apparently a bit too loudly as nearby couples stumbled in their movements as they turned to stare. "No," she repeated, softer this time.

He stared down at her, his hand giving hers another brief squeeze before letting go, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "You're sure?"

She bristled. "Of course I'm sure. I think I would know by now, don't you?"

He stepped back slightly at her harsh tone. "I just thought," he drifted off as he glanced at her and then over at where Bill stood once more with his wife. He straightened suddenly, his eyes turning back to her. "I just thought that maybe you were because your scent…"

He was staring intently now at Fleur. She turned to glance at the French woman who was smiling now at her husband. Bill now appeared calmer as he stared down at his wife, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Do you know why, even though it practically nauseates him to do so, he stands by her?" Remus questioned softly, pulling her up beside him.

"Why?" she asked, the sinking feeling in her stomach intensifying as she could almost guess the answer.

"Because he asked her to do it, to wear that perfume," he told her softly, standing behind her now with his hands resting on her hips.

"Why would he do that?"

"To attempt to cover up the scent of his baby growing within her." His right hand drifted lazily across her stomach, resting there as he pulled her back against him. "There are still many dangerous werewolves out there, Hermione, ones that would love to kill her and the unborn baby for revenge, or merely just for the pleasure of a kill."

Hermione stared at the two across the room for a second more before turning around and moving out of Remus' arms. "I'm not pregnant, Remus. I can promise you that." She walked past him, pausing when she heard him say, "I will find out eventually, Hermione."

She brushed through the dancing couples, almost racing toward the door. She glanced back when she finally made it to the exit. He was still standing in the middle of the dance floor, his eyes locked onto hers.

If only he knew…

**Hope you guys like it so far.**

**Much Love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	2. Chapter Two: Waxing Crescent

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_**There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)**_

**Chapter Two: Waxing Crescent**

The large black wolf rubbed itself against the fallen log, nose sniffing at the decaying wood to capture the scent that still lingered there. The prey had been smart. The trail so far had been hard to follow. The prey had picked only decaying objects to brush up against, knowing that the overwhelming scent of the fungus and different organisms that bred on the rot would most likely disguise the scent.

Smart, and yet a seasoned tracker such as the wolf was still able to detect the almost subtle scent that lingered beneath the others. The hunter was closing in on the prey. The chase had been going on for far too long, and now it was about to end. Head tilted back, the wolf gave a long, loud howl to the full moon just beginning to rise above the horizon.

_Next morning…_

Hermione pulled the cloak tighter around her as she travelled down the small alley way. She was forced away from doing her shopping at home. It was too dangerous anymore. Though she had become quite a recluse after the war and most ignored her anymore, the eyes of few still lingered on her with speculation, watching her ever move.

She used that small excuse to slip away to the wizarding community in Bulgaria. Thankfully after her brief "affair"- if you could even call it that- with Viktor Krum, Hermione knew enough Bulgarian that she didn't have to inquire for help or talk to anyone. She knew from her one visit that if she merely kept to herself, that most would leave her alone.

The full moon had been last night. Her eyes shifted unconsciously to the sky and she wondered fleetingly whether Remus had let Moony out to play or rather he had tried to suppress the wolf. She wondered where the new scar would be this time…

At one time, not too very long ago actually, she would have been in full support of him allowing his human half to dominate to an almost tyrannical point over the wolf portion. After all, the "wolf" was seen as a beast in the eyes of the judge, jury, and executioner, often being served with a punishment for something they have no control over. The wolf was feared for its dominance in existing within a pack and out. Feared for difference, and yet it was ignorance which stood as the driving force behind the hatred.

Now, though, with time to consider her opinions, Hermione fought against the views she had once adopted so fiercely. The wolf was as much a part of Remus as his human half was. As long as he provided no immediate danger to anyone, where was the harm in letting the wolf out to play every once in a while?

She tugged at the cloak, drawing it closer as the bitter wind lashed out at her skin. The weather here was horrid. It had rained the first two days she was here and last night, last night had been the coldest without a doubt. Today wasn't much better, but the darting of the sun from behind the clouds every now and then was a welcome relief after the cold.

She kept her eyes averted as she went down a side alley where the shop windows grew slightly darker, the streets dirtier as well as the people that lingered there. Two men stood in one of the sharp corners where the stones of the wall were beginning to crumble, hunched over and whispering as they exchanged goods. She was reminded of Knockturn Alley as her eyes drifted along the worn signs hanging over the shops.

She stumbled slightly over a broken bottle, her shoulder knocking into a passing woman. The woman snarled at her, baring yellow teeth broken into jagged points. Mud was streaked across the woman's face and her clothes were ragged, large moth holes eaten in the black fabric.

"Sorry," Hermione said automatically before she could stop herself.

"Watch 'ere your goin'," the hag said, her voice a painful screech resembling the sound of nails down a chalkboard. The woman spun away quickly, the horrible stench emitting from her clothes still lingering in the air long after she was out of sight.

She kept to the edge of the alley way after that, carefully sidestepping anyone that threatened to fall into her path. It was strange, she noted, how the war had effected the people even here. They still shifted about uneasily, wary of those who ventured too close; unlike those back home that merely chose to forget about what happened and continue on with their jolly lives.

Hermione wasn't disillusioned enough to believe she had gone through everything without being changed. She heard the whispers when people were too ignorant to take notice of their surroundings before speaking. They called her hard, one even venturing to call her unfeeling. She hadn't been upset when she heard it, though, which probably was her first notion that perhaps they were right.

Perhaps she was unfeeling…

But really, what right had they to blame her? She had been thrust into a world of war at the age of eleven where she literally had to fight to survive. She had buried friends and family alike, had watched as they died because some elitist maniac decided to create a hypocritical utopia of a superior race.

Perhaps she was unfeeling, but how would letting emotions override judgement help matters at all?

Removing herself from "weak" emotions had enabled her to survive despite that which would have destroyed her otherwise, not merely physically, but emotionally and mentally as well.

She gave her head a slight shake as she briskly continued down the alley. She halted momentarily as a figure brushed by her quickly. She stared straight ahead for a moment before spinning around, her eyes searching out the figure but he was already gone.

She could have sworn…

No, it was just her nerves getting the better of her, she told herself. She had been on the run for too many months and it was beginning to get to her. Besides, he couldn't possibly still be tracking her after this long...

Hermione lifted her hands and grasped the hood of her cloak, pulling it up and over her head. A few errant curls jutted out defiantly, but otherwise the hood did its job by covering her face. She glanced around, but no one paid her the least bit of attention.

The store set back slightly from the others. The sign above the door was tilted slightly, the wood darkened with age. Tattered black cloths served as curtains in the dirt-streaked windows. A few tattered books were on display in the windows along with some other unidentified objects. A long staff was stretched out across the front of the display, strange markings carved into the length of the wood. Hermione gazed at it for a moment before tugging at the cloak once more and heading into the store.

An older man sitting behind the desk toward the back looked up as the door opened, squinting his eyes. He was mostly bald except for a few grey hairs that stood straight up on the top of his head. He had on a pair of large, thick glasses that made his eyes look remarkably huge, even from across the room. His clothes were reeking of mildew and sewn together with patches in odd places.

Hermione didn't bother with a smile as she approached him, nor did she look away from him as she greeted him in Bulgarian. For once, Hermione was glad of her acquaintance with Viktor Krum. She had studied Bulgarian because of it and could pass it off admirably well.

"I am in need of some rare materials for a potion I am brewing and I heard that you may be able to provide some of them." She didn't let her gaze stray as she stared him down stonily. She was not going to cower now, not when she was so close.

"I might," the man answered finally, his voice cracking slightly from age. "Just what potion might you be brewing, young lady?"

"I don't believe that is any of your concern, now is it?" She arched an eyebrow as she folded her arms slowly over her chest. "If you are not able to provide me with the ingredients, perhaps I could find them somewhere else."

The man surveyed her coolly for a minute before closing the book in front of him. Dust flew from the pages, clouding the air. "I may be able to acquire some of the ingredients." He walked around the desk and over to one of the shelves. "Just what is it that you require?"

Hermione glanced at the shelf and said, "Belladonna."

The man looked at her sharply. "Belladonna?" At her nod, he turned back to the shelf, muttering, "Belladonna. Yeah right. Could have got that at any old apothecary," as he ran his finger along the jars.

The corner of her lip twitched slightly as she watched him. He might find her list boring at the moment, but she was sure that his interest would be piqued when she got on down the list with some of the more… _questionable_ ingredients.

He turned back around with the jar in his hand. "Ah, yes, here it is. Belladonna." He placed the jar on the counter before looking at her. "Anything else?"

"Aconite and hellebore."

The man gazed at her steadily once more before turning back to the shelf. He was muttering darkly now about, "Intolerable young girls," as he searched the shelves. He grabbed up two of the jars and practically slammed them down on the table.

"Anything else?"

Hermione glanced once more at the shelf with a half smile. "Valerian." While he was perusing the jars, she allowed her eyes to drift over some of the spines of the books on the shelves. She stepped closer to them, her fingers reaching up to touch one of them.

"Those are very rare and very old," the man said suddenly, almost startling her. "I ask that you don't touch unless you intend to buy." He gave her a look that said he doubted very seriously that she could afford such a rare item.

She stared at him stonily as she plucked the book she had been eyeing off the shelf and placed it on the counter with her other purchases. "I also require snake venom, more specifically, basilisk venom."

That caught his attention. With an arched brow, he repeated, "Basilisk venom?" At her nod, he continued, "That isn't so easy to come by, young-"

Hermione retrieved her money pouch and threw it down on the counter, the galleons spilling out onto the counter. "I need two vials."

His eyes had widened when he had seen the galleons before he hastily gathered up two vials of the required item. He clapped his hands together eagerly. "Will there be anything else for you?"

"Actually, yes." She leaned against the counter casually and folded her arms over her chest. "I need a vial of re'em blood and three fresh runespoor eggs."

He faltered slightly when he went to turn back toward the shelf. He glanced back over his shoulder at her as he realized what she had just requested. "I'm afraid, young Mistress, that both of those would be quite hard to obtain-"

"You'll find," she interrupted, her tone bored, "that I have _adequate_ funds to cover it."

He folded his hands together and glanced first at her and then down at her money pouch before finally nodding. "I believe I might have some in the back."

"I need the eggs fresh," she reminded him as he turned and started toward the back of the shop. When he disappeared from sight, she flipped open the book idly and glanced over it. It was an Ancient Latin text that she had only heard about briefly. It was a banned text.

"Ah, yes, I thought we had-" His words drifted off as he stared at her with the open book in her hands. He rushed over quickly and slammed it shut with his free hand. "Don't read that in here."

Frowning, she asked, "Why? It's just a book."

He shook his head sadly as he straightened her stuff on the counter. "You are naïve, young Mistress."

"I am not," she protested automatically.

He offered her a small smile as he said, "In regards to the Dark Arts, you are if you truly believe that a book is merely a book." He leaned forward. "Things are more than what they seem," he said meaningfully as he tapped the book with a single digit.

Hermione stared at him disbelievingly. Whereas her life was filled with people letting her down, her books had never failed her before. She doubted they would start now.

He saw the look in her eyes and smiled sadly. "You do not believe me, young Mistress?" He shook his head once more. "One day…one day you'll discover that this old man knows what he's saying." He grabbed a thick brown bag from under the counter. "Will that be all for you, young Mistress?"

She glanced over the items and nodded. "Yes, that'll be all." She extracted enough galleons plus a few extra to cover the expense and gathered up her bag. "Thank you."

"Remember," he said, causing her to pause with her hand on the doorknob, "things are sometimes more than what they seem."

She didn't respond as she opened up the door and walked out. She had only made it a few steps when a pair of arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her back into the shadows near one of shops.

"Looks like the wolf has caught the prey."

**I just want to say: I've had a quiet chuckle over all ya'lls reviews. Figure that out :-P**

**Much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	3. Chapter Three: First Quarter

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Three: First Quarter**

It was delicious- the tangy bitterness of blood running down the pale, soft flesh. It kicked the already oversensitive senses into overdrive as thin rivulets marred the skin. Just one lick turned into another, and then another, until the wolf howled within as the tongue lapped eagerly at the liquid.

The steady flow eventually died to a trickle, the white flesh now gleaming in the dark recess. The wolf inside cried, "Victory!," as glinting light eyes took in the sight. The wolf had caught his prey…

_The next morning…_

A soft whimper escaped her lips as Sleep finally let her escape his clutches, the dull pain that had originally stirred her now escalating at a rapid pace as she drifted further into consciousness. Her eyes slowly flittered open to adjust to the darkness enveloping her.

Old stone walls reeking of mildew and some other poignant scent surrounded her. Her clothes stuck to her, damp from the water that trailed down the walls and pooled in small puddles across the floor. She rose slowly, her limps protesting the movement quickly as a sharp hiss escaped her.

Hermione glanced around slowly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing an open scrape that ran down a good portion of her forearm. She couldn't see any furniture in the small space, but a whole corner was completely shrouded in darkness where her eyes could not penetrate.

She sought out an escape. She didn't know where _he_ was, but she knew that it would not be long before he came to gloat. The small slot of time she had to escape was dwindling fast.

Pain seared through her entire body as she had to clutch at the jagged stones to lift herself up. Blood trailed down her fingers as the stones cut into her flesh. She ignored it as she remained clutched to the wall, her eyes scanning the room while she listened for any sound.

Her legs buckled slightly as she slowly began to make her way around the room, clinging to the wall for support. She figured the door was somewhere in the corner with no light. She only hoped that it opened quietly. Actually, she just hoped it opened at all.

She slipped gradually into the dark shadows, keeping her body pressed close against the wall as she continued to listen for any sound of movement. She turned her head to the side as something caught her attention, halting her stilted movements as she pressed herself completely against the wall. A soft sigh passed through her parted lips as a rat scurried into view.

Her foot connected with a pebble and it clattered loudly across the floor, the sound echoing in the small area. She tensed and squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable opening of the door as her captor barged in.

Nothing…

Eyes slowly flittered open to glance once more across the lighted portion of the room before landing on the door just a hairsbreadth away. Her hand slowly reached toward it, her tongue darting out to moisten cracked lips as the tips of her fingers brushed the cold metal.

Hands gripped her wrists like iron manacles as she was shoved roughly against the wall, the sharp edges of the stone digging unforgiving into her back. She could feel the liquid trail downward as her skin gave way, but she ignored it as she stared into the eyes of the beast before her.

Grey…the colour of the fog as it settled over the forest during a morning or after a hard rain, the colour of the dew that littered the grass in the early hours of dawn, the colour of the foam from the ocean as the waves lap at the sand. So light that they almost blended in with the whites of his eyes, and yet so chilling that they stood out vividly.

A slight tip of the corner of his mouth formed, his scent overpowering her as he leaned forward. His nose brushed against her cheek; his warm breath causing a shiver to run down her spine and her hair prickle. His mouth parted slightly, his teeth scraping lightly down her jaw line before he nipped almost mockingly at her chin.

His eyes met hers. He had won, he was saying as he pressed himself against her. The gloating tilt of his mouth and malicious glint in his eye told her that. The unspoken words that echoed around the room screamed themselves at her. He had won, they shrieked.

He always won.

"Leaving so soon?"

xOx

Remus stared at the orange curly hair of the tot currently chasing after a butterfly in the garden. Laughter wrapped around him like a warm cloak as little boy skipped through the garden, spinning around with a wide grin.

He moved back into the shadows of the house as a tall woman with dark hair stepped off the back porch toward the little boy. She was smiling as she held her arms out, the boy instantly jumping into them.

"Grammy!" the boy squealed as the laughing woman twirled him around in the air. "Faster! Faster!"

The woman obeyed as she swung him around, his little legs kicking the air. Remus smiled to himself at the domestic scene before him. He could very well insert Nymphadora into the woman's place. She would have been an amazing mother.

He turned his head slightly to the side but didn't move as he heard the soft crush of the leaves as someone approached him from behind. The harboured breathing and heavy footfalls identified the intruder as his father-in-law.

"Why don't you go over there?"

Remus turned slowly to face Ted. Ted had been almost ten years Andromeda's senior when they married. The man was beginning to show his years and, though he wouldn't admit it, Remus knew that he was not well. Remus could practically feel the sickness rolling off the older man. His scent had altered slightly to that of a weakened animal

Remus shook his head, half in answer and half in a vain attempt at quelling the still eager wolf inside him that wanted to strike while the prey was weak. "I have to go in anyway. I shouldn't linger… not now."

He broke off with a glance to the sky. It was still too close to the full moon despite the fact that it had already passed. However, the wolf was still strong for days before and after, and, with him being weary, he doubted he would be able to handle the wolf.

"You wouldn't hurt him-"

"I wouldn't _want_ to hurt him," Remus interrupted, a slight edge to his voice, "but there's always a slim chance that I would." His eyes turned to clash with those of Ted's. "I can't take that chance, not with him."

Ted stared at him for a moment before finally nodding, stepping up beside of Remus to watch the duo in the garden. "She loves him as if he were her own, you know," Ted said finally after a moment of silence.

"I know." Remus swallowed past the lump in his throat as he thought once more of Nymphadora. How like her mother she had been…

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Remus. Despite what you are, you will always be a good father to Teddy. You love him more than yourself, and that will ensure that you will risk all to keep him alive, even if it meant sacrificing yourself."

"She didn't deserve to die," Remus practically growled. "She should have been here with him and I should have died instead."

"What's happened, has happened," Ted said softly, placing a hand on the lycan's shoulder. "We cannot dwell on that which has been dealt out." The man paused for a second before he continued in a whisper, "We cannot waist what little of our lives we have left wishing for what could have been."

Remus tucked his hands into the pocket of his trousers as he turned to face Ted. "You really need to go see a Healer, Ted. Something could be done-"

"I've already been, Remus," the man interrupted sadly. "I slipped out one day. There's nothing that can be done."

"Have you told her yet?"

Ted stared at the woman in question before shaking his head. "I've meant to, it's just every time I open my mouth to say it, I hesitate. She's finally happy again. Losing little Nymph was hard on her."

"Then prepare her for yours."

Ted smiled wryly, "Do you think that would make it any easier?" He shook his head. "No, it wouldn't at all. Besides, I feel like if I tell her, it will just make it more final in a way."

Remus nodded in understanding. Hadn't he been almost the same way? He had kept his secret away from others for the longest time, he still did to an extent. If others did not know, then he could deny the wolf a bit longer. He could pretend he wasn't a beast.

"I'll watch after her," he found himself offering.

Ted smiled. "Thank you, Remus." With a last glance at the twirling two in the garden, the man turned on his heel and walked back toward the front of the house.

Remus stared after him for a moment before turning back to where Andromeda was now hunched down in front of Teddy, tickling him. His mouth tilted up in a weary smile as he leaned against the side of the house. He wanted to go over and join, but he knew better.

With a final glance, Remus turned and headed in the direction Ted had just went. Only when he was a safe distance away did he apparate to Hogsmeade. The streets were crowded with shoppers, but the general populace ignored him as he brushed his way almost methodically through them to the outskirts of the village. He didn't know why he veered off the main path and up over one of the hills, but his pace did not slow until he was standing in front of the desolate Shrieking Shack.

When he had been bitten, his whole life had changed. His parents had made it more than plain that he would never be normal because of the "curse" inflicted upon him. Not once had there been any mention of what brought on such a thing. Instead, the implication that it had been _his_ fault had lingered in the air and in the accusatory looks he received on a daily basis. It had been _his_ fault that his parents had a monster for a child.

When he had turned eleven and had received the letter from Hogwarts, he had been overwrought with joy. He forgot then about his curse as he eagerly threw stuff into the small tattered suitcase, ready to leave despite that he still had two months to go. His father had taken joy in destroying the little amount of happiness that he had in the letter by pointing out that they wouldn't possibly let a "beast" into the school. Of course they couldn't have known about the curse, an eleven year old Remus had told himself, and once they knew, surely the letter would be ripped from him. He was, after all, a dangerous monster.

Remus reflected on how his life could have possibly been different if, in that split moment when he had blurted out his secret to Dumbledore, he had been turned away. But he hadn't of been, and with the trust of one wizard, Remus had gained the hope that maybe there was a chance of normalcy for him.

Maybe he had been a bit studious, but even at that age, Remus knew that the only chance he had for any kind of future was through academic achievement. It was only after he had met the boisterous duo Sirius Black and James Potter that he had wished for something more. For weeks on end, he had watched them with a wishful look. Needless to say, he had been more than shocked when the pair had approached him with an extended hand. When he had rebuffed them for fear of rejection once they discovered his secret, they had redoubled their efforts and eventually the duo became a trio. Somewhere after that- he couldn't recall the exact point- Peter had joined their group. This was perhaps more due to the fact that he was always following Sirius and James around and the two had grown quite used to the constant flattery and looks of undeniable awe they received.

Even after he had gained acceptance from the Marauders for his "problem" as they liked to call it, he still fought his wolf side down. Sirius had often joked about his split personality while James- being a little more classed in the muggle literary arts- deemed him a Jekyll and Hyde mix. They decided on the nickname of Moony for him, and, somewhere along the way, that became the name of his wolf counterpart.

It was really only after he was a little older that Moony had really started vying for control, especially near the full moon. Remus had fought the wolf back each time, trying to maintain as much control as possible. He knew it was because of his battles with the wolf each full moon that made him so weary around that time. He knew that if he just let the wolf out, he would have all his energy in the days following and wouldn't be so temperamental when the wolf did gain a bit of control and peeked out before Remus could handle him.

And yet he couldn't, _wouldn't_, risk it.

Remus coughed as the dust he stirred upon entering assailed him. He came here from time to time, but he knew of no others that ventured into the place. Though most should know, especially after the truth was "accidentally" let out during the war, that the place wasn't haunted, many still believed in the old tales.

The back room was scattered with various objects. He still came here during his transformations for the solitude it offered. As of late, though, that silence and solitude he once glorified in now only served to agitate the wolf.

Long scratches ran down the walls while the furniture was nearly torn to pieces. Moony had gained control during this full moon and had raged at the lack of company. Not just any company. It was Hermione that the wolf craved.

Remus ran his finger along the nearly destroyed frame of one of the pictures in the room as he puzzled over Hermione. He knew he wasn't attracted to her, it was the wolf. When Hermione had come to him that first night so many months ago, Moony's interest had been piqued. He had been in control then, not Remus, and he had glorified in the younger creature that had not cowered in front of him because of what he was.

Remus still couldn't understand the actions of Moony that night. When Moony had peeked through during his intimate moments with Tonks, he had been rough…demanding. With Hermione, though, the wolf had been tender. He had treated her as one would a prized lover, gently stroking her and revelling in the soft purrs and moans that escaped her.

Remus had been convinced that Hermione had enjoyed the wolf, but afterward she had taken to avoiding him around the full moon. She rattled off excuses when he would finally find her about the lack of time or some inane task she had to do. Though he couldn't be completely sure, he was almost convinced that she had been a bit thrown off guard when he had posed the question about her scent. She had turned coy, easily directing the conversation off to another topic, something she did when she was trying to cover something.

Remus' hand stilled on the back of the chair before letting it clatter loudly to the floor. It made sense, yes…but could it be possible he wondered with a frown. He wasn't fully aware during all the time when Moony was in control so it could be possible…

It would explain many things- her avoidance of him, her swift change in mannerisms…

Her scent.

His mouth parted slightly in horror as the wolf inside of him howled in delight. It wasn't a baby inside her that had changed her scent, it was Hermione's scent that had changed.

She was a werewolf.

**Hope you guys are enjoying it!**

**Much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	4. Chapter Four: Waxing Gibbous

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Four: Waxing Gibbous**

The rain washed over the stones, pooling up in large puddles at the base of the building. Thunder sounded overhead, roaring loudly in its anger as long streaks of lightning creased the sky in all its glory. The storm raged on over the dark forest, making everything beneath seek cover… save one.

One beast stood outside beneath the pouring rain, arms outstretched and head tilted back. The branches of the tree brushed against the bare chest as the wind whipped them around. Mouth parted slightly as a roar started softly in the distance, growing louder as it came closer. The rumble started just as soft, exploding from the mouth in a loud howl of victory, sated victory as even the rain couldn't mask the smell of blood and sex emitting from the stone building.

_A little while later…_

She didn't want to open her eyes. She curled up tighter on the floor, her body settling easily into the water that pooled there, the murky water now coloured with a red tint as it mixed with blood from the deep scratches that marred her body.

She listened to the rain still pouring outside. She had stirred earlier when she had heard the loud roar outside, the rumbling of the howl as the man outside basked in the rain. She had shivered at the callous sound, her body aching at the movement.

He had claimed her earlier. Her fingers touched the deep mark on her neck, the blood still trailing out of it. She was his now, he had growled as he had covered her body with his. His fingers had dug into her upper arms, holding her still as his teeth broke the skin of her neck at the same instant he entered her harshly.

Her body still ached from the intrusion.

She knew better than to move. He would hear and would come for her. She didn't think she could handle that, not right now with the memories still fresh on her mind. After taking her, he had licked the wound he had made before dragging his nose up her neck. He was smelling her, she realized a second too late. He had her up against the stone wall, his body still connected with hers, before she had realized it and was growling in her face.

"Who?" he demanded as his sharp nails dug into her skin. He pushed against her roughly, letting the sharp stones dig into her bare back. "Who has touched what is mine?"

It was her pride that let her say, "I was never yours," before common sense could override the silly notion. Her words, she had noticed, both amused and angered him. He was amused by her audacity at standing up to him, but had been angered by the challenge they held that lingered there in the air.

He had tangled his hand in her hair then, jerking her head close until her nose bumped against his, her lips dangerously close to his snarling ones. "You have always been mine."

His lips had been demanding on hers as he sought to prove his point. He had remained still within her as his hands trailed down her body, roughly groping at her skin, rubbing and pinching. He had started to grind then, even as his hand dipped down between their bodies and rubbed where they were connected. She hated her body for giving in, for the soft moans and growls that emanated from her mouth. She hated herself for pushing back against him, her own hands running over him- scratching him- as she arched her back and moved with him.

She despised the fact that she had had the best damn orgasm of her life and it had been with _him_. Not that she had much experience in sex. There was that one night with Remus, of course, and two other one night stands since that first time when the wolf inside of her had demanded a release. She couldn't even recall much about those two events.

A soft sigh escaped from her parted lips. His expression had been smug when she had collapsed in his arms as her body shook. His eyes were intent upon hers, capturing her in his possessive gaze as he stroked the hair back from her face before latching his mouth onto hers. She had kissed him back.

A light scuffling sound had her ears pricking slightly, but she did not move. Even as the calloused hand drifted slowly from her shoulder to her hip, she remained motionless on her side. His thumb stroked idly over her skin as he pressed closer, his lips lightly ghosting over her collar bone.

"Come pet."

Though the words were soft, she knew it was a command. The wolf inside of her prickled slightly at that, but her rational side won out. Haltingly, she pushed herself up into a sitting potion before taking his outstretched hand and raising.

She stared at him while his eyes roamed freely over her naked body. The corner of his mouth tilted up as his eyes met hers. He closed the distance between them quickly, his arms locking around her and jerking her forward just as his mouth descended upon hers.

She bit down on his lower lip hard enough to cause him to growl when he jerked away. Eyes hard, he glared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound rough as if he hadn't laughed in a long time.

His hand fastened onto her chin, gripping it tightly as he jerked her to him. "So the little pup wants to play rough?" he said softly. His other hand moved down over her chest crudely, groping and pinching while the hand on her chin turned soft.

Hermione returned his stare defiantly. "I don't want to play at all."

He looked amused even as the hand roaming over her body turned more demanding. His eyes shone with arrogance as her body swayed into his touch. "Guess I'll have to go on that run alone."

She hated how she immediately snapped to attention then, plain enough for him to notice and to smirk. She quickly looked away so she was not staring at him with such eagerness, but he reclaimed her attention easily.

"Would you like to run with me, pet?"

She wanted so very badly to say no. She wanted to claw at him, to bite until he let her go so she could run on her own. Away from him.

"Yes."

She said the word so softly that she was sure if he hadn't had honed werewolf hearing he wouldn't have heard her. He did, though, and his smirk grew as his hand drifted from her chin to her cheek, stroking her skin softly.

He stepped back, his hand running down over her neck and shoulder until he was holding her hand in his calloused one. He tugged on it lightly, letting it be known that he wanted her to come to him.

Drawing in a deep breath, Hermione closed the distance between them. If it hadn't been for her need to be outside for a brief respite, to feel the soft earth underneath her as she ran, she would have remained defiant. She wanted to feel the wind hitting her face as she ran, and so she had taken that damning step toward the man who created her.

"This doesn't mean that I like you or that I'm not going to fight you," she said just as he started leading her toward the door.

He paused, turning back to look at her with a malicious smirk. He tugged on her hand, pulling her up against him while he lightly nipped at her neck. "You may not like me, pet, but your body loves what I do to it. Feel there how you shiver now while I bite you. You like it rough, mate."

He bit down hard on her neck, hard enough that she was sure he drew blood. A soft moan escaped her before she could stop it, her head tilting to the side to give him better access almost subconsciously. He licked at the wound he made, causing her to purr softly as she leaned into his body.

He smiled at her in victory as she ran his hand down her body. "And as for fighting, I hope you never stop." His lips crashed against her, demanding entrance as his tongue pushed hard against her lips. When she didn't part them, he bit hard on her lower lip.

"Stop," she demanded as she pushed him away roughly, her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, before she regained her senses. She had to regain control before she became a prisoner once more. "How far are we running?"

He ran a hand through his long mane. "To a creek in the northeast and back." He grinned wolfishly as he took her hand once more in his. "Come, pet, feel the Earth beneath you and the sun on the your skin."

xOx

With a few final flicks of his wand, Remus completed the counter spells needed to get through all the wards Hermione had upon her quaint cottage. He stepped back and passed his wand once more in front of his face. It would be just like Hermione to hide a charm that wasn't easily detected just for spite upon an intruder. He found none, though, even after the third and fourth sweep.

Glancing around, he stepped past the barrier that would be her wards. Lucky for him, Hermione was a bit of a recluse and lived away from others. She loved her privacy and guarded it like a lioness would her cub. Solitude was her baby.

He turned to look behind him once he reached the door before reaching out slowing and turning the knob. The metal grew warm under his touch before a lock clicked and the knob turned easily. He pushed the door completely open, and looked inside curiously from the doorstep.

Everything in the entryway seemed in order, he noticed, but years at war had taught him to never take anything at face value. Slowly, he stepped inside, pausing when the floorboard creaked beneath him.

Remus tilted his head back ever so slightly and inhaled the air around him, catching the mingling scents in the air as he closed his eyes and dissected them. He caught one and unlaced it from the others.

Her scent.

It was there, faint, but there. It brushed alongside every other scent in the house, though it seemed days old. No, longer than that. Over a week at least, possibly even two. It shouldn't have been that long though…

He frowned and walked on through the hallway toward the kitchen. A pile of unopened envelopes were scattered on top of the table beside a dirty dish and teacup. Even as he stood there, a small owl swooped in through a cracked window and dropped a letter on the table. The owl glanced his way briefly, then flew over and snatched a treat from a small bowl on the counter.

Remus watched it fly back out the window and then shifted through the mail. Some of it was weeks old, and none of it was opened. He lifted one from the bottom and smelled it. Her scent didn't linger on the parchment.

"Where are you, Hermione?" he whispered to himself as he dropped the letter back onto the table and headed toward the stairs. He glanced at some of the moving pictures on the walls, each staring straight back at him. He stopped at the top when one of the figures in the pictures called out to him.

"Remus."

He turned his head and looked back. "Harry?"

The young man shifted within the frame, glancing at the other figures around him nervously. Remus frowned and stepped closer to the picture. "Is everything alright, Harry?" The young man looked nervous.

Harry glanced at the other man in the picture to his right before saying softly, "No." He sucked in a breath and ran a hand through his ruffled hair. "Hermione hasn't been home in a while. I'm starting to get worried."

Remus nodded. "Me too. From what I know, no one has seen her since the night of the ball." He glanced down the hall toward Hermione's bedroom. "When was the last time she was here?"

Harry frowned and rubbed his scar. "If I'm not mistaken, it was the night of the ball. She left in the middle of the day with a dress draped over one arm and a large bag on her shoulder."

"A bag?"

"Yeah. It looked like she was going somewhere." His hand once more swept through his hair as he stared past Remus' shoulder. "Come to think of it, she was acting rather odd." At Remus' look, he added quickly, "Odd even for Hermione."

Remus turned and took a few steps toward the bedroom, tilting his head slightly to the side and smelling the air. Sure enough, Hermione's scent mingled with the others, but was weeks old.

He glanced back at Harry before quickly walking to her room and looking around. She had removed most of her personal possessions from the room, eliminating most of her scent. The pictures that had once decorated the walls had been taken down and most of the clothes in the closet were missing.

"Remus?" Harry's voice called from down the hall.

Remus sighed and walked back down the hall where Harry waited in the frame. He glanced back down the stairs and then at Harry. "I don't think she'll be coming back."

"What?" Harry was frantic as he paced in the picture. "She has to come back. She has to be around somewhere, Remus. She…Remus, you have to find her."

Remus stared at him for a moment before saying, "I plan to."

**As always, much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	5. Chapter Five: Full Moon

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**NOTE: Just a note, this story (since it's only 9 chapters) rolls over a number of months… **

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the poor tortured soul, The Romantic, for the amusement I received from her confusion.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Five: Full Moon**

The earth gave as the steady footfall met the dirt, molding alabaster with dark brown. A twig snapped as one jumped over a fallen log, crashing upon a limb stealthily before taking off again. The forest was alive with the gentle beating of the birds' song and whisper of the trees bending to the wind.

She stood beside the beast at the top of the hill, eyes closed as she breathed in the scent of a new day. The sun melted the night away off in the distance. He tipped back his head and let out a soft howl, arms stretched out, eyes closed, lips parted- he howled. She didn't look at him, but her back stiffened slightly, saying the words she couldn't say just then. _You haven't won yet._

_Later…_

She pushed the scrap of meat around on the plate with her finger. She chanced a subtle glance at him before taking a quick sniff of the meat. He heard, though, and let out a bark of laughter.

"Come now, pet, do you really think I would try to poison you after working so hard to get you back," he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"Yes," Hermione responded without pause. "Ever heard the muggle saying, 'If I can't have you, no one else can'?"

Something flashed in his eyes before he quickly masked it. He picked up her cup and took a drink of the water before holding it out to her, urging her to drink. Only after she relented, did he respond. "Who says I don't have you?"

"You don't." Her voice came out harsher than she meant it to, her eyes narrowed angrily as she pushed the cup away. "I will never be yours."

He idly wiped some of the water that had splashed from the cup off his hand. When he finished, he turned his eerie eyes to her. The glint in them reminded her of a predator's eyes when it spotted its prey. "You already are, mate."

"No."

His hand was on hers before she even registered him moving. He clamped his hand around her wrist like a manacle and tugged sharply, pulling her against his body. His other arm wrapped around her lower back firmly, holding her tightly where she could barely even squirm against him.

His tongue touched the pulse at the base of her neck before he caught her skin between his teeth. He continued the process all the way up her throat to her ear where he caught the lobe in his mouth, eliciting a strangled moan from her parted lips.

"You _are_ mine," he whispered harshly against her skin, "make no mistake about that, pet. You are my mate, my wife." He let her wrist go as he raised his hand and touched the small scar where he had bitten her so long ago. "This mark, _my_ mark, proclaims your status as my mate."

He hand gripped her chin roughly as he forced her to look at him. "You are mine," he growled savagely before slamming his lips down upon hers.

xOx

They skirted away from him as if they knew what he was. Remus pulled the hood down lower over his face, amber eyes darting around the crowd and soaking in the faces. Ever since he walked into the small wizarding village in Bulgaria, the people had walked in a wide radius around him, their fear-laden eyes staring away.

With a small frown, he smelled the air. He couldn't find her scent within that of the smells of the people and village. His gut told him that she had been here, though, and so he kept walking down the street.

He glanced down when he stepped on some glass, noticing the broken vials scattered across the ground. Some of the liquid stained the cobblestone pathway. He sniffed the air lightly, picking up the scent of basilisk venom and …

Remus frowned, tilting his head slightly to one side as he gazed down at one of the smaller stains. He crouched down, closer to the dried up liquid and smelled the air again.

_Re'em blood_?

Standing, his eyes searched out the area. He saw the faded and decrepit sign of the Apothecary and quickly headed toward the building. He bumped into an old hag, but ignored her indignant words as he pushed open the door.

"Who's there?" The demanding voice drifted in from the back, followed by a loud thump as something crashed to the floor.

"I am in need of some assistance," Remus replied, keeping his voice light as he glanced around. He could distinctly smell her, especially on the books. She had been here.

That thought should have overjoyed him, but it did not. Coupled with the broken vials outside, he had a slight twinge of trepidation at how this might turn out.

The old man stepped out from the back room, a scowl appearing on his face as soon as he saw Remus. "What do you want, werewolf?" At Remus' arch brow, the man grunted and continued, "Think we haven't seen your likes around here enough to notice the signs?"

Remus ignored the question and instead repeated, "I am in need of some assistance. There was a young woman, I believe, that came in here perhaps a week or so ago."

The shopkeeper eyed him warily. "Might have been. What's it to you?"

Remus gave a lighthearted shrug and answered, "Just looking for her." He stared at the man for a moment before throwing a small bag of coins on the table. "Now, I believe that she came in here?"

The man quickly palmed the bag, testing its weight before saying, "Yeah, the girl was here. Bought some strange ingredients and one of my books. She left with some man right out there," he gestured to the street.

"Man?"

"Yeah, but it didn't look like she wanted to go. Smashed all my ingredients. Some of those were hard to acquire."

Remus frowned. "If it looked like the man was grabbing her and forcing her to go, why didn't you do something?"

The man's eyes surveyed him. "We don't get involved in battles not our own around here." He started to head back to the backroom, but paused at the door. "That man, he was one of _your_ kind."

Remus stared at the empty door front, his blood cold. He spun on his heel and ran back out onto the street, his head tilted back as he took in a deep breath of air.

There. It was faint but it was there. The very scent sent chills down Remus' spine. People stepped away as Moony started to growl, a single name coming out on a hiss.

_Fenrir_.

xOx

She let the cold water run in rivulets down her legs, soothing the scrapes. She leaned back against the stone wall and pulled her knees up to her chest. Dipping the rag back in the bowl of cold water, she squeeze the water out onto her legs again.

_How long have I been here?_ The question plagued her mind as she numbly repeated the process with the rag. She knew it had to of been for a while now, but down here in her cell without a window to see the passing of days, she wasn't sure of exactly how long.

Hermione glanced down at her body. Most of the cuts from the first couple of times were starting to heal. She knew she'd be lucky if some of them didn't scar. After those first couple of times, he hadn't hurt her as much. She still fought him and he still maintained his dominance over her, but his touch was slightly softer.

She frowned at where her thoughts were taking her. Squeezing the rag over her arms, she thought back to the last time. After he had finished, he had actually held her, his lips slowly moving over her collarbone. He nipped at her shoulder before pressing one final kiss to her neck.

No, she wouldn't, _couldn't_, let herself think like that. He was a monster, one of the worst kinds. He had bitten her, pinning her down to the forest floor and sinking his teeth into her. He had laughed, then, as she cried out for help, but she had gotten the better of him. She had picked up a rock and hit him up side the head with it.

She had apparated away, quickly repeating the process several times and to several different places before she thought it safe enough to stop and rest. She had remained on the run ever since, knowing he would come after her.

And he had.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. She knew it could be worse. He could have chained her up and brutalized her, perhaps even curse her again and again.

But he hadn't.

A large hand pried the rag from her fingertips and lightly touched her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open as she turned to look at Fenrir. He simply stared back.

"Turn around and let me get your back," he finally said, far gentler than she would have expected. He dipped the rag into the water, his eyes never leaving hers as he waited to see if she would move willingly.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before pulling her hair over one shoulder and turning so that her back was facing him. He pressed his lips against the nape of her neck before squeezing the rag out over her back.

He repeated the process several times, sometimes trailing the rag down over her back. He rubbed it lightly across her skin, gently cleaning the cuts.

She hissed when he brushed against one of the deeper cuts right below her left shoulder. He dipped the rag back into the water and blew lightly against her skin in a soothing gesture as he slowly washed the cut.

He placed the rag back into the bowl and pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. "Come," was all he said as he climbed to his feet and held his hand out for her to take.

Hermione hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his and allowing him to help her up. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a predatory grin as he stepped closer to her, wrapping one arm around her. Nipping her ear, he pulled back, her hand still in his, and led her out through the door.

Hermione remembered this hallway, but instead of going outside like she thought, Fenrir continued on past the door leading out. He chuckled softly at her slight pout, knowing she had been hoping to go for a run.

He led her up a set of stairs where the hallway branched off toward three doors. She glanced at him warily, causing him to smirk as he pulled her closer.

"That one," he said, pointing to the one on the left, "is the bathroom. And that," at this, he gestured to the door on the right, "is the den. I set up some bookshelves for you so you can go in and read at times."

She turned her head to look at him, biting her lips to stop the words of thanks from leaving her mouth. It surprised her that he thought of her enough to supply her with books. Though, she wagered, he probably figured it would be best to keep her complacent for the times when he was away.

"And the other door?" she finally asked, glancing at the one in the center.

He pulled her hair away from her neck, twirling a stray curl around his finger as he pressed his lips to her throat. He nuzzled her skin, breathing in her scent. "That room," he whispered against her nip, lightly catching the lobe with his teeth, "is _our _bedroom."

Hermione remained staring at the door while his mouth moved down her neck and across her shoulder. She should be glad, she supposed, at getting out of the stank dungeon, but while it was dirty and horrible, it was her own. This, _this _room, would not be hers.

It would be theirs. His and hers…

He laughed softly before biting down lightly on her shoulder as if guessing the path her thoughts had taken. "Come pet, I promise you shall enjoy my bed far more than your old one."

He held her hand tightly in his own and led her on toward the center door, only pausing long enough to open the door. He pushed her into the room and stood behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, waiting as she took in the room.

The walls were stone, but they were smoother here, the color a dark grey. The floors were stone as well, but soft fur rugs stretched across the expanse of the floor. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace off to one side, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the floor in front of it.

Hermione stared at the large, back-iron bed that dominated the room. The top was covered in white and grey furs. Without thinking, she stepped forward out of Fenrir's arms and toward the bed, her fingers lightly trailing over them. They were soft to the touch, possibly the softest things she had ever felt.

"They feel even better against naked skin."

Hermione jumped slightly when his hands snaked around her, his right hand coming to rest on her breast while his left drifted down over her stomach. He kissed her temple as his hands worked at caressing her flesh.

"No," she protested, but the word sounded weak even to her ears.

"Yes," he breathed against her ear, causing her to shiver. He moved his left hand lower, brushing against her curls. "I can hear the wolf within you, pet. It cries to come out. It cries out for me. Why deny yourself the passion that we could share?"

Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side as he attacked her neck again. She dug her teeth hard into her lower lip to stop the moan that threatened to bubble out when he brushed his hand over her. When he rolled her nipple between his fingers, she hissed sharply, leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Let your wolf out to play, pet." He nudged her legs further apart and moved his fingers over her. "Remember how good it felt to be outside running? That was the wolf inside of you."

He squeezed her breast in his hand as his fingers rolled over her nub. He bit down on the base of her neck, licking the small indentions in her skin when he drew back. Keeping his hands on her, he pushed her back onto the bed.

He gazed down at her, his eyes shining like those of a predator that has finally caught its prey. "Let your wolf out, pet." He leaned down and nibbled lightly on her lower lip, catching it between his teeth and tugging on it. "Let it howl."

And, when he sunk two fingers inside of her, Hermione arched off of the bed, her head tilting back as she closed her eyes and howled.

xOx

The red liquid splashed over the edge of the glass as it hit the table with a loud thunk. The sound echoed in the half-empty pub, drawing the attention of some of the patrons. He glanced up and growled softly, causing them to turn back to their own drinks.

He had been in this place for over a week now and there was still no sign of Hermione. Remus knew he only had a little time left to look before he had to return home. Andromeda had said in his last floo call that Teddy had been asking for him.

He gazed at the drink in his hand, moving the glass so that the liquid swirled around inside. Some of the drink splashed out onto his finger. As Remus lifted his hand to his mouth to lick it off, he wondered if Fenrir could have possibly killed her.

_No._ Fenrir wouldn't have killed her, not Hermione. If he had taken her, he had to of had a reason to so he wouldn't kill….

Remus froze in his chair. What if he had it all wrong? Hermione was a werewolf, of that he was sure, but what if it hadn't been _him_ that had bitten her. What if it had been…

It certainly explained why Fenrir wanted her and why Hermione kept disappearing around full moons. The older werewolf had always been the possessive type. He would want one of his own beside him.

Remus drained his drink and stood from the chair, pulling the thick wool cloak around his shoulders. Walking outside, he tugged the hood up over his head and headed for the tree line.

"I'll find you, Hermione," he vowed softly as he disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

**Just a note.. I just started back up with classes and, as a senior Creative Writing major, I will be spending quite a bit of time working on my thesis. I'm going to keep trying to update in a timely manner but the updates may be spaced out from now on.**

**Much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	6. Chapter Six: Waning Gibbous

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**Again, please remember that this story is taking place over a long period of time…**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Six: Waning Gibbous**

Fingers moved over flesh, caressing, pinching, soothing. The tongue flicks over the crescent shaped teeth marks on the shoulder. Admiring the beauty of porcelain skin, the beast stands, gazing down at his mate.

Outside, he stands under the night sky, head tipped back toward the moon. Arms stretched out, he howls. Wolves dance around him, muzzles touching the earth in respect as the beast celebrates. Howl after throaty howl, he sings his song of victory.

_Many moons later…._

Hermione curled up in the chair, adjusting the book splayed across her knees. After that first night in the room, Fenrir had brought her a book. She had digested it quickly the next day when he had gone out. He had laughed when he came back to find her sitting on the bed, staring at the closed book. He had brought her another one the next morning.

Since then, he had been bringing her a new book every morning.

She snuggled into the chair as she turned the page. She glanced over at the pile of books in the corner. She had quite a little library going on at the moment, or at least that's what Fenrir teased her about as he pulled her body against his at night.

She counted the books silently. Twenty-seven in all. She figured she had been here for at least three weeks before that, taking in the number of transformations she had been through.

She raised her arm up above her head and stretched a little, letting the fire warm her. Her lips parted slightly as a yawn escaped her. She had tried catching up on her sleep during the day, but the sun filtering in through the window dancing across her skin was just too enticing to pass up. She wanted to play in it, to feel it warming her, but she wasn't allowed to go out without Fenrir.

Now it was in the evening and she was starting to get tired. The warmth of the fire and the coziness of the chair was just adding to her drowsy state. She knew she wouldn't be able to get much sleep once Fenrir came home…

_Home_.

Hermione paused as she repeated the word to herself, over and over again. She had no idea when she had started referring to the little stone house as a home. It was actually a little nice, she thought, after she got past the whole kidnapping thing.

She was stirred from her musings when the door opened. Fenrir stepped through, his hair a little mussed and a long cut running across his upper arm. He had a bloody cloth in his hand which he kept pressing to the wound, cursing softly under his breath.

Hermione put the book down on the ground and rose from the chair, motioning for him to take a seat. As he did so, she walked out and went to the bathroom. She found a small bowl and filled it full of water. She then picked up one of the worn towels and took both back into the bedroom.

She knelt on the ground before him, not looking up into his curious eyes. He merely watched as she dipped the towel down into the cold water and then gently washed the cut. She repeated the motion slowly and meticulously, only pausing when he hissed sharply at the deep end of the cut.

She dipped the towel back into the water once more, pressing it over the entire length of the cut. She moved his hand on top of it, forcing him to hold it there while she stood and left the room.

Hermione came back a minute later with a fresh towel. She folded it and signaled for him to move his hand away. She wrapped the towel around his arm, tying it off at the end. She took both the bloody cloth and wet towel and threw them into the fire, watching as the flames consumed them.

"Thank you."

Fenrir's raspy voice drew her attention back to him. She surveyed him for a moment, noticing just how tired he looked. She moved a bit closer to him and placed her hand on top of his. "You're welcome."

She broke eye contact first, rising and taking the bowl back to the bathroom to dump it out. When she returned, Fenrir was still sitting in the chair, his good arm propped up on the armrest and holding his head. She debated about whether she should just crawl into bed or not, but decided to go over and sit beside him instead.

She curled up on the pelt in front of the fire, staring into the dancing flames. She heard him shift behind her, just enough so that he could reach out and wrap a few of her curls around his hand. He played with them idly as they both sat in silence.

He leaned forward in the chair and urged her to move back until she was sitting between his legs. He wrapped one arm around her upper chest, drawing her backwards against the chair, as he leaned forward and kissed her temple.

Despite herself, she reached up and touched the arm that was wrapped around her, rubbing his hand soothingly. She turned her head slightly, looking up and meeting his gaze. Breaking the silence, she asked softly, "What happened?"

For a moment, she didn't think he would answer. He turned his stare back to the fireplace and leaned back a bit, though he kept his arm around her. She rested her head against his thigh, merely watching him.

Finally, he answered, "A graphorn broke into the pack today. It killed one of the pups before I could even get there." He paused, running one hand through his hair. "The pack is dining on its carcass tonight."

Hermione turned until she was on her knees before him. She gazed into his eyes for a moment before reaching out slowly and touching his cheek with her fingers. "You did good."

"A pup died," he growled, shoving her hand away.

"But the rest of the pack did not," she argued, this time cupping his whole cheek in her hand. "You could have lost the whole pack, but you didn't. You saved them."

His eyes narrowed angrily and his next words came out on a low growl. "This was her only pup. Her and her mate had been trying for seasons to have their own litter, and this year, they finally had one. This pup was the only one that survived out of the three."

Hermione merely continued to stare at him, unsure of what to say. Finally, she licked her lips and shifted slightly, moving closer to him. She placed her other hand on his arm, right below the towel. "You only lost one when you could have lost them all. This cut is proof to the pack that you will sacrifice anything for them. They know that you would have prevented the death had you been able to."

This time, when he growled, he shoved her away, back onto the pelt as he stood from the chair. "This cut," he spat angrily, pointing to his arm, "was not gained from killing that beast. I took it down easily. This cut came from my second in command after he saw his mate howling over his pup's body."

Again, she didn't know what to say to calm him down. She knew he was upset. He was their alpha, and so each death had an impact on him. Instead, she merely watched as he stormed over to the wall, ramming his hand against it and ignoring the sick crack of bones.

He howled, a loud angry howl that slowly grew softer, more sad, toward the end. His shoulders hunched forward, and he leaned his forehead against the wall. He placed his palms flat against the stone, slamming one against it a few times.

Hermione stood slowly, walking cautiously over to him. She knew by now that he would never consciously hurt her, but she also knew that approaching a hurt animal was dangerous.

She stopped right behind him, staring at his bare back for a moment before reaching out. He flinched slightly when she placed her palm on the middle of his back. Drawing in a deep breath, she ran it up his spine slowly, taking a tentative step forward. She moved her hand to his shoulder, applying a little pressure as she moved her other across his stomach to his side. Slowly, she got him to turn to face her.

She stared at him for a moment, struck by the genuine pain in his eyes. Before she had come here, she had never thought him capable of the emotion, she never thought he was human enough to care. But then, even animals felt loss, she reasoned, yet this extended much farther than that.

Without saying anything, she moved her hands down around his waist and pulled him closer to her. She hugged him tight, nuzzling her cheek against his chest as she merely held him. After a minute, she felt his arms wrap around her and hold her too, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered softly against his chest, pulling back slightly to take his hand in hers. She smiled at his nod, and gave his hand a brief squeeze.

She led him over to the bed and climbed in, pulling one of the larger pelts back so that they could crawl underneath it. He crawled in beside her, watching her as she pulled the covers up around them.

For the first time, Hermione snuggled up against him, wrapping her arm around his waist and burying her head against his chest. One of her legs found refuge between his as she pressed close, sighing in content as he wrapped himself around her.

Closing her eyes, she slipped easily into sleep within his arms.

xOx

Leaning back against the side of the house, Remus watched as his son tottered around the backyard. He was currently in pursuit of a rather large butterfly, laughing as it evaded his hands. He smiled when Teddy tripped over his own feet, laughed, and got back up again in hot pursuit. With each day, he was turning into his mother more and more.

Right now, Teddy stopped and stared at the butterfly which landed on a vine just above his reach. Staring hard, the little boy scrunched up his nose and turned his hair the same vivid blue as the butterfly's wings. He laughed then, tugging and pointing at his hair in an effort to impress the insect.

He tilted his head softly to the side as he caught the soft floral scent in the air. He smiled at Andromeda as she stepped out of the house, a small basket of cookies in her arms. She smiled back at him before turning to Teddy who was fast approaching, his little hand out and grasping the air for a cookie.

Plopping down onto the grass, Teddy started eating the cookies his grandmother brought out for him. Andromeda patted his hair affectionately, then straightened and walked over to Remus. The smile slowly fell from her face as she took in his tired expression.

"Remus," she said softly, reaching out and touching his face.

"I'm fine," he said almost mechanically. After being asked the same question for the past week, he was getting a bit tired with the routine.

"No, you're not, Remus." She looked at him sternly, grasping his chin in her hand. "Just how much have you been sleeping, hm? Two? Three hours max at night?" She shook her head sadly. "You're beating yourself up, Remus, over something that isn't your fault."

He fought back the growl as his eyes narrowed slightly on his mother-in-law. "How is this not my fault? I possibly marked her as easy bait, Andromeda."

"You don't know that," she whispered softly.

He shook his head. While he had explained the basics, he hadn't told her everything. He didn't think it would be prudent to tell her that he had slept with Hermione _while_ Tonks had been alive. Instead, he had merely said that Hermione had stumbled upon him near the full moon and he thought he had bitten her. Close enough to the truth, after all. He also told her of her disappearance and his search.

"There is no other answer," he said stubbornly. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have to find her. This is my fault and now…now I have to fix it."

Andromeda watched him carefully. She knew there was more going on than what Remus was telling her, but she couldn't figure out what he was holding back. She also couldn't understand why he was so determined to find the girl. Personally, she thought Hermione was dead if, as they all suspected, Greyback did have her.

"Remus," she started again, only to be cut off by him.

"Don't say it," his eyes narrowed determinedly. "She's not dead. I know she's not."

"How, Remus?" Andromeda picked up his hands, giving them a light squeeze. "Out of everyone, you should know what that monster is capable of. Do you really think he would let her live?"

"She's alive," he repeated, his voice stronger, more sure. "I just have to find where Greyback is keeping her." He turned from her to look at his son who was still sitting on the ground with his cookies in hand. "Think you can watch Teddy for a day or two?"

A small smile broke out on Andromeda's face. "Of course. You know how much Ted and I love having him around the house." She bestowed her smile onto the unaware child, before turning back to Remus, her face serious once more. "Promise me you'll be careful, Remus. Teddy has already lost one parent, he doesn't need to lose you too."

He pulled her close and hugged her tight. "I'll be back in a couple of days, I promise." He kissed his mother-in-law on the cheek, and then walked over to his son. Kneeling, he smiled as he ruffled Teddy's blue hair playfully. "I've got to leave for a couple of days. Grandma and Grandpa are going to take care of you while I'm gone."

Teddy scrunched up his nose slightly, his hair turning the same dirty blond as his father's. "Daddy, don't go." He reached out a little chubby hand toward Remus.

Remus sighed and picked him up, hugging him close. "I'll be back before you know it, you'll see." He set Teddy back into the grass and touched his nose. "Be good for Grandma and Grandpa, alright?"

Teddy nodded, a small pout on his lips as he played with the half eaten cookie in his hand. "Bye bye, Daddy."

Remus smiled and stood, raising his hand in parting toward Andromeda. With that, he stepped back from his son and apparated out of the back yard and back into his own house. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths, considering his options.

Fenrir had taken her out of Bulgaria, that much he was certain about. But where did he have her now? The pack used to be located in the forest of England, but he knew they had moved right after the war. He hadn't really paid much attention to where they had relocated to, but now he wished he had.

Remus walked over to the cabinet and began riffling through his books. He pulled out one and flipped through it until he found a map of Europe. He traced the borders of the larger forest areas with his finger.

He eliminated some from his mental list based on what he knew about Fenrir. He would want somewhere where there would be a lot of open space to run and a large water source. There also had to be plenty of hiding area for the females and their pups.

He snatched a scrap piece of parchment and a quill, quickly jotting down the names of three large forests. He figured he'd start with them. Fenrir had to be in one of them.

Walking toward the door, he picked up the pack he had fixed up earlier. He had enough supplies to last three, possibly four days, and then he'd return to gather more and figure out what to do with Teddy. But for now, he was going to head to the Carpathian Forest.

**Thanks to everyone that is patiently waiting for me to update... My apologies for the dedication in the last chapter...it should have been _That _Romantic. As always...**

**Much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	7. Chapter Seven: Third Quarter

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Seven: Third Quarter**

A lone howl pierced the night, slicing open the thick grey clouds that consumed the full moon. The forest turned its ears toward the sound, recognizing the heartache of a father. Around a small cave, eight wolves waited, their heads laying on their paws as their litter mates mourned the loss of a pup.

As one, they slowly rose, the moon's light casting a ring around them. Heads tilted back, they howled as one, awakening the night to their cries. The alpha stepped from the shadows, eyes sad as he watched his pack mourn the pup. Tilting his head back to the moon, he joined in the howls.

_Later…_

Hermione leaned her head back against the rock with her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the sun on her bare skin. She raised her hand and brushed a strand of wet hair from her face, moving the curly mass so that the sun would dry it out.

Fenrir had brought her down to the river earlier, merely saying that he thought she'd might like a swim when she had questioned him. He had raked his eyes over her for a minute after that, and then had turned back up the hill.

That had been a while ago, Hermione reasoned, judging by the position of the sun overhead. She did not mind his absence, though, for it gave her a little time to relax outside. Every now and then, she heard a howl from one of the pack members, but other than that, it was quiet.

She raised her arms above her head and stretched, her mouth opening wide in a yawn before she rested back on the rock once more. She ran her hand over the soft fur robe underneath her; it had been a present from Fenrir.

The corner of her lips turned down in a frown as she thought about the past months. When he had first kidnapped her, she hated him, but now… now she wasn't sure what she felt toward the alpha wolf. Her feelings toward him had changed quite drastically over the course of her captivity.

She wanted to hate him. It would be easier if she did, but she didn't.

Not anymore.

Hermione sat up straight, pulling her knees up to her chest so she could rest her chin on them. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she thought more on her current situation and her feelings toward her captor.

She was confused, and if there was one thing Hermione Granger hated more than anything, it was being confused.

Hermione scooted toward the lower end of the robe, dipping her feet into the cold water of the creek. She smiled slightly when a tiny fish swam up and gently nibbled on her toe before swimming away into the murky depths. Sighing softly, she wiggled her toes and glanced up at the sky.

Her head snapped around as something stepped on a twig behind her, breaking it. One of the young wolves from the pack approached her slowly, stretching out comfortably beside her. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as she scratched him lightly behind the ear.

"Fenrir send you?" she asked softly.

As if understanding her, the young male licked her fingers lightly, scooting a little closer to rest his head against her leg. Hermione smiled at him before turning to look out at the forest. A pair of squirrels were chasing each other just a little way away, scampering up the large trunks a before darting back down to the forest floor. The young wolf watched them carefully, but never left Hermione's side.

Hermione laid back on the robe with a soft sigh, listening as the wolf adjusted his position so that his head was lying by her arm. She idly twirled his ear between her fingers as she watched a bird fly overhead.

"Are they hunting?" When the wolf gave a low whine in answer, she smiled. "I'm guessing you're meant to keep me from running off," she said, and then added softly, "as if I would now. I have no where to go. They didn't know I was a werewolf before, but they would now."

She sighed, watching some of the clouds drift by overhead. She furrowed her brows and watched as one took an odd shape, twisting until it looked like a wolf howling. "I can't run from who I am anymore," she whispered to her wolf companion, turning her head to smile at him as he scooted a little closer, rubbing her skin with his head in a comforting gesture.

She wrapped her arm around his neck and snuggled closer to him. "There's no way they'd even believe that he'd keep me here this long without changing me even if I tried to lie to them." She paused, stroking his fur slowly. "Not that I'd lie to them anyway. This is a part of me now and I, and they, just have to accept that."

The wolf gave her a lick, his chops turning up in what looked like a grin. She laughed, then, rolling over onto her side to hug him. "Want to know a secret?" she whispered softly in his ear. "If I'm honest with myself, I've enjoyed the past few months. I enjoy the freedom to just be myself. Though I'm still a captive, I've been freer here than I have been for a while."

She rested her head against his, stroking his fur almost methodically. "But I refuse to remain a captive," she continued. "This isn't the life for me."

The wolf whined, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He licked her hand, nudging her with his head as they both stood. She wrapped the robe around her tightly and walked back to Fenrir's home with the young wolf by her side.

She glanced up at one of the hills on their way back and noticed a few of the wolves from the pack resting on a knoll, watching her in an almost protective manner. She turned to stare straight ahead, still trying denying the truth. It was almost as if they accepted her as a member of the pack, as Fenrir's mate.

She entered the small home and held the door open for the wolf to follow her in. He hesitated for a moment, apparently considering something before coming to some decision as he entered the house, heading straight to the burning fire and curling up on the rug.

She dug through the pile of books and found one she had enjoyed. Settling down beside the wolf, she opened the book. He rested his head in her lap, staring up at her as she began to read out loud.

She ended up lulling herself to sleep, the book falling to the side as she curled up with the young wolf. Fenrir ended up finding her there hours later, her arm wrapped around the neck of the wolf, sleeping soundly.

He stood back for a minute against the door, watching her sleeping. He found a rare smile touching his lips before he quickly shook his head and walked over toward her. Sweeping her up in his arms, he signalled for the wolf to lay there while he carried her to their bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he wrapped himself around her and held her while she slept.

xOx

Remus shrugged his shoulders, attempting to adjust his pack on his back and pulled himself up over the ledge. He rolled over onto his back and laid there for a minute to catch his breath. He ran a hand over his face and watched the clouds drift across the sky overhead. He found it ironic that some of the clouds took the features of a wolf, but cleared the thought from his mind and hulled himself to his feet.

He had been looking for weeks, taking short breaks every now and then to pop back home to check on Teddy. He had yet to find any sign of Fenrir's pack and he was soon realizing that any hope of finding Hermione was dwindling.

He pulled his pack off and dug through it until he found a small biscuit. He swung the pack back on and chewed on the bread while he walked through the forest, careful to keep all his senses open in case he happened to stumble across the wolves or Fenrir himself.

He knew Andromeda and even Ted thought he was crazy to keep searching. They had all written her off as dead, but Remus knew she wasn't dead. However, with the whole wizarding word against him, Remus himself was beginning to believe that maybe…

No, he told himself, he could not let himself think her dead. She had to be alive. He would know if she wasn't, he told himself. But still a little bit of doubt lingered there.

Still, he knew it was selfish of him to keep searching when Andromeda and Ted were going through their own problems. Ted was still battling his illness, and had yet to tell his unsuspecting wife about his impending death. The Healers had assured him that there was no hope for him- he was going to die.

Remus frowned to himself while his thoughts took him thousands of miles away to his late wife's family. He wished he could help them, especially after all they had done for him. He knew that if he offered, all they would ask for would be for him to come home and be a father to his son.

He knew they were right in a way. He really should be home with Teddy and taking care of him, but he needed to find Hermione first and then maybe he could make a family for them.

Yes, he was doing the right thing by looking for her. He owed it to Harry, to Ron, to everyone who cared for her and had lost their lives during the war. He owed it to her for the curse he had thrust on her when he had lost control of himself. He needed to find her.

As he walked, he thought back to the weeks following that night when he had given in to his desire. It was right after the war, right after he had lost Tonks and she had lost her own family. He had tried approaching her, but she had easily sidestepped him. The truth was clear to him now. He should have seen it…

He should have known.

_It was late at night and those that still called the house 'home' had already turned in for the night except for two occupants. Hermione was curled up in one of the large armchairs in front of the fire, a book open on her lap though her eyes were staring out the window at the moon. _

_Remus watched her from the doorway, his lips pursed in a frown as he contemplated the look upon her face. It was almost as if she was daring the moon itself to some sort of battle. _

"_Hermione?" He said her name softly as he stepped further into the room, but she didn't turn her gaze from the moon. He perched himself on the arm of the chair and touched her arm lightly. Only then did she stir._

"_The full moon will be here in a week," she told him, turning her head to look at him._

_He glanced up at the moon through the window and nodded. "Yeah, it's just about that time again." He offered her a smile, feeling Moony stir within him as he stared down at her. He reached out and touched her hair, running his fingers through her curls. "Hermione…"_

_She stood and walked over to the window. Placing her hand against the pane, she smiled a secretive smile as she looked up at the moon. "It's beautiful, is it not? For some, though, it brings a small sense of dread and, yet, also a thrill." She turned to look at him. "Do you not agree, Remus?"_

_He had been slowly walking toward her, feeling Moony start to spring to life within him. The wolf wanted to be with Hermione, and with it being so close to the full moon, Remus wasn't sure he could deny that part of himself._

"_I think every beautiful thing brings a sense of dread and thrill," he commented, staring at her and not the moon. He rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to her. "The moon, though, also offers some freedom to answer the beast within us all."_

_Hermione turned toward him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her closer to him. She could fell the evidence that he still wanted her, that at least the wolf within him desired her. He leaned down toward her, nuzzling her neck softly. She stood still and let him start to kiss her neck._

"_Moony," she whispered, drawing his attention. When he looked up at her, his eyes had changed ever so slightly signifying the change. Moony had taken over, determined to possess her. _

"_Hermione," he whispered, his voice a low growl full of possessiveness and desire as he ran his hand down over her hip and across her stomach. "I want you." He leaned close to her, intending to kiss her but she turned her head away so his lips made contact with her cheek._

"_I'm going away tomorrow," she said suddenly. "I've decided to go visit an aunt of mine. She's sad about my parent's death and has been asking me to come visit her."_

"_Hermione," he started, but was silenced when she quickly leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. "I'll see you in a week or so," she said before brushing past him and out of the room._

Remus almost growled as he remembered that night. She had practically told him then that she was a werewolf, and he hadn't listened to her, hadn't paid attention to all the facts that had been staring him in the face.

He had to find her and bring her home because he had done this to her. He had been the one to change her and bring Fenrir's attention down upon her. He owed it to her to make things right.

He walked through a copse of trees, careful to keep his eyes and ears open. He would stay here for another two days and then would return home, hopefully with Hermione, though he wasn't completely sure how he was going to get her away from Fenrir when he did find her.

He came to the edge of a ravine. He could see a small stream running down below. He walked over to one of the trees and pried a thick vine away from the trunk. He wrapped the vine around his arm and propelled himself slowly over the drop off. The vine left him hanging about a meter from the ground and he let go of the vine to drop to the ground in a crouch.

He glanced both ways. There was another hill on the opposite side of the stream, but he decided to walk downstream for a bit. He smelled the air cautiously as he moved along the water. He paused when he caught the scent of something different than the woods around him, something vaguely familiar…

He started to run, thankful that the wind was moving against him and so his scent wouldn't reach the person until he was upon them. Rounding the bend, he spotted the woman. Her rebellious chocolate curls spilled down over her bare skin as she sat with her back to him in the water, cupping the water in her hands and letting it spill down over her skin.

Hermione…

There was a single wolf lying on the grass near her, his head resting between his front paws as he watched over her. Remus leaned against the bank and watched for a moment or two. He couldn't pick up the scent of any other wolf, though they may be behind him.

He picked up one of the larger rocks and weighed it in his hand. He would only have one shot, but he had to take it. It was his only hope of getting Hermione out alive…

He stepped out cautiously and threw the rock, his aim precise as it hit the young wolf. Hermione turned quickly, staring in shock at the young wolf that now lay unconscious on the bank. Then, she continued turning and saw him there, running toward her swiftly.

Remus watched her jump to her feet, her hands automatically reaching out to grab the fur robe that lay on the ground near the wolf. She wrapped it around herself and stared at him as he pulled to a stop in front of her.

"Remus?" she asked, her eyes disbelieving. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to get you," he said even as he grabbed her arm, looking her over carefully to see if she was hurt in any way. "We have to hurry before…"

He broke off even as he heard the howls come from behind them. He held her to him tightly and looked behind him. "They're coming," he said, though it was not necessary. Hermione had stepped forward slightly, her eyes on the stream as she listened to the approaching howls.

"Come," he said, pulling her closer to him and preparing to apparate.

"Remus, no!" she said, even as she felt him digging for his wand. She turned her head just as Fenrir rounded the bend, his eyes quickly assessing the situation. He howled loudly, baring his teeth. Her eyes connected with his, she raised her hand…

"Fenrir," she whispered even as he raised his hand, his wand there in his grasp. She looked back at Remus who had raised his own wand, pointing it at the alpha wolf. "No!" she shouted, jumping at Remus just as Fenrir shot off a spell.

She felt the shock throughout her whole body as she collapsed against Remus. The last thing she heard before she gave in to the darkness was Fenrir's loud growl, coming closer, and then Remus apparating them away with a loud crack.

**Sorry about the delay in updates. Please remember that there are long time lapses between chapters and within chapters. Thanks for reading!**

**Much Love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	8. Chapter Eight: Waning Crescent

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Eight: Waning Crescent**

The earth shook with the thundering of paws hitting the ground in a steady rhythm. Through the bushes and the grass they went, their tongues lolling out slightly as they caught their breath with pants to match their pace. The alpha was driving them endlessly, moving them.

Topping the hill underneath the moon, the alpha stopped, his fist clenched tightly. His howl cried his anger, cried the revenge he vowed to take. His eyes changed when the wolf took over, longing for its mate. Another howl, fading slowly from anger to pain.

_Later…_

The icy cool hand upon her head woke her, forcing her to stray from the pleasant dreams of running through the woods, letting the leaves and grass caress her bare skin. Hermione forced her eyes open, seeking out the owner of the hand, only to find the space now empty. She frowned, taking in her surroundings.

She could hear the steady hum of people conversing outside the door to her room, the laughter of children as they moved up and down the hall, and the cries of pain closer than she wanted them to be. The beeping of the machine next to her drew her attention, causing her to jerk on the bed as she threw her head to the side to read the numbers on it.

A hospital…

She laid her head back against the pillow, staring at the tiled ceiling above. Remus had taken her, she remembered. Fenrir had been there, her hand had been reaching toward him and his hand…

He had his wand out. He must have taken it with him that day. She knew that he was going to curse Remus and she had jumped in front of her ex-Professor to protect him. She had been hit with some curse by Fenrir, and now she was in the hospital.

Her stomach hurt. Her back and head hurt too for that matter. It seemed that the only part of her that wasn't really aching were her hands. He had probably used something powerful. She could only thank Merlin that he didn't use the killing curse.

"You're awake."

She turned her head toward the door to stare at the Healer. His voice was flat, without any hint of emotion. He met her gaze confidently before coolly turning to look at the machine beside the bed. "Vitals are where they need to be," he continued, flipping open her chart to make the appropriate notations.

"How long have I been in here?"

He didn't even bother to look up at her while he continued writing on her chart. "A little over a week. You're lucky to be alive." Then, he looked up and caught her gaze, a sadistic half smirk on his face as he continued, "But then, others may not consider it so."

She growled and started to lean up on the bed toward him when the door opened once more. The scent of the newcomer assailed her senses while she continued to glare threateningly at the Healer.

"Get out, before I use you as a chew toy," she told the Healer.

A flicker of something flashed in his eyes, but then he quickly masked it and headed out of the room calmly. Hermione hit the bed with her fist and laid back on the bed.

"Was that necessary?"

Hermione barred her teeth at Remus. "When he makes references to the fact that I shouldn't be alive, then yes, it was necessary."

He remained silent, standing still beside the closed door with his hands folded behind his back. His eyes were the light brown colour of Remus, but she could sense the wolf lying right there underneath, eager to get out. Remus, though, seemed sad and slightly hesitant.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked finally, his voice low.

Hermione detected the note of hurt in his voice easily. Her features softened as she reached out a hand to him, allowing him to take it in his grasp and thread his fingers through hers. "It was my problem and I wasn't going to burden you with it."

"_Your_ problem?" His hand tightened around hers as his features grew angry. "Hermione, I could have helped you. I could have protected you."

The laugh that escaped her was bitter and mocking. "No one could have protected me, Remus. Fenrir would have got me one way or another, and it was better that I was alone when he did. No one got hurt."

"You did," Remus pointed out, his hand tightening on her own. He leaned forward, his other hand rising to tenderly brush her hair away from her face. "I could have helped you, Hermione."

Hermione turned her head away from him. The sun was just beginning to set, the stars just becoming visible in the sky. "No, Remus, you couldn't have."

His whispered, "I'm so sorry," caused her to whip her head back to him. She was shocked to see that he had his head bent down and his eyes closed as if he was about to weep. He looked pitiful at that moment, so broken and defeated. Moony was pushing inside him to get out, to turn away from the sorrow.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she told him. She wanted Moony then. She couldn't deal with the sadness that Remus felt, but she could deal with Moony.

"Of course I do," he raved, his head whipping up to stare at her. His eyes were glazed slightly, making the light brown appear closer to the topaz colour of Moony. "I caused this."

Hermione almost laughed then when she realized what he was feeling sorry for. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "Remus, you didn't cause this."

"Yes I did," he countered miserably. "If I hadn't of lost control that night of Moony, then I never would have bitten you and…"

"You didn't bite me, Remus," Hermione interrupted.

"I did," he continued desperately. "I had to of. If I hadn't of, then that would mean…"

Remus let the sentence die off as he stared at her, eyes wide. Even Moony was still, shocked by the truth of the matter. Hermione smiled and reached up to brush his own hair from his face. "Fenrir bit me before that night, Remus. I was a werewolf before."

xOx

The book fell to the floor with a soft 'thud.' Hermione glanced up from her own reading to smile at the sight before her. Remus and Teddy had joined her in the library an hour before. Teddy had made Remus promise earlier that day that he would read to him before bedtime. Apparently, they were both tired for they were both sleeping soundly, Teddy curled up on his father's lap while Remus' head was leaned back against the cushioned back of the chair and his arms tightly woven around his son.

She quietly closed her own book and conjured a blanket. Walking over carefully so as not to wake them, she tucked the blanket around the too of them and cast a spell over the fire to keep it going. It hadn't been the first time since she had arrived here that the two of them had fallen asleep in the library while she had been reading.

Hermione had been released from the hospital two weeks prior and handed into Remus' care. He had taken her at first to Andromeda's house where Teddy was staying. The older woman didn't even try to disguise her shock at seeing Hermione there alive, but then Hermione figured that the lot of them had given her up for dead.

Teddy had been his same boisterous, cute self. He had immediately launched himself into her arms, his chubby little hands gripping her face as he gave her a sloppy kiss to the cheek. She had laughed and hugged him tightly, swinging him around playfully.

Ted had been an unexpected surprise. She had smelled the sickness as soon as he entered the room, her eyes flying to Remus' questioningly. He had given her a slight nod, understanding what she was asking. She wanted to ask about it, but Remus shook his head quickly, his hand pressing against the small of her back and leading her into the kitchen. On the way, he whispered, "She doesn't know."

They had spent three days in Andromeda's and Ted's house. Hermione passed the days by playing with Teddy out in the garden, while Remus left to take care of some last minute things. Hermione slept with Teddy at night, giving Remus the guest bedroom as she was smaller and could fit more comfortably on Teddy's bed.

Hermione remembered one particularly interesting conversation with Andromeda. The older woman had caught her while Hermione was fixing herself a cup of tea, blocking the only way out of the kitchen.

"_So, you're alive," Andromeda stated plainly, her arms crossed as she stood in the doorway. "Congratulations are in order, I suppose."_

_Hermione finished stirring her tea before turning to face the woman. "For what?" _

"_Not everyone can brag about being captured by Fenrir and leaving unscathed." Andromeda smiled coolly at her. "You must have been very lucky."_

"_I don't believe in luck, nor fate, or any of those other ridiculous notions," Hermione replied briskly. "Life happens, and we must take it as it is."_

"_But to survive Fenrir Greyback," Andromeda stressed, stepping forward toward Hermione, "is a remarkable feat, especially considering how long you were with him."_

_Hermione could sense the underlying point of the conversation. Andromeda didn't trust her, and, Hermione mused, the woman had very little reason to really. The woman had probably guessed what had transpired over the months Hermione had spent as Fenrir's captive._

_Hermione picked up her cup of tea and went to pass Andromeda. She paused beside her, though, and leaned over to whisper in the other woman's ear. "I survived because I was useful to him. I am not the monster most would believe me to be, but nor am I an innocent child, Andromeda."_

_Hermione gone to move on, but paused once more. "I lost my entire family during the war, and I would never wish that pain upon another person. For that, I urge you to speak to your husband."_

They had left the next morning, taking Teddy and returning to Remus' house which he had been fixing had returned to his grandparents' house once since then, and that was only because the full moon had arrived and it was unsafe for him there.

Hermione understood Remus' feelings very well, Moony's even better. He wanted her to become a part of their lives, and, she noted, he was successfully integrating her into their lives so far. She was beginning to dote on Teddy quite a bit, and as for him, he would run to her more often than not when he needed or wanted something.

If she was honest with herself, she enjoyed her time their with them. She liked taking care of Teddy, she enjoyed being able to curl up in front of the fireplace in a nice comfy chair at night and read to her hearts content, and she loved how Teddy would sometimes find his way into her room at night and curl up beside her, his tiny hand wrapping itself into her curls.

And, keeping honest with herself, she missed her time with Fenrir. She didn't dare analyze her feelings for him; she was afraid of what that turn up. She sometimes felt like she was on vacation here, playing house for a spell before returning to the real world. She wanted the trees, wanted the smell of fresh rain as it brought the forest to life.

Unlike Remus, she didn't deny the wolf side of her, and that side wanted the life she had had while in Fenrir's hold.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts from her mind. She looked once more at Remus and Teddy, only to find the little boy awake. She smiled at him, and received a sleepy one in return.

He slid from his dad's lap swiftly and quietly, not even stirring the sleeping werewolf. He threw the blanket back over Remus before turning and padding softly over to Hermione. He held out his arms to her, and she immediately swept him up off the floor. She smiled when he snuggled closer, moving his head to the crook of her neck while his hand wound itself in her curls.

"Sleep with you?" he asked softly, his voice laden with sleep.

"How about I put you in my bed," she suggested as she walked out of the library with him in her arms, "and I will join you later when I decide to turn in."

"Paddie," he requested softly, his muscles already relaxing as sleep began to take over.

"I'll go get him and put him in bed with you," she told him. He had a small plush black Labrador dog that he slept with every night. He loved hearing stories- strongly edited by those who told them- about Sirius. "He'll be there when you wake up."

His breathing evened out and he fell asleep. Hermione smiled and continued on toward her bedroom at the end of the hall. She nudged the door open with her hip and carried the sleeping boy over to the oversized bed. She settled him in under the covers, and then silently moved from the room.

She went to his room and got his 'Paddie.' Something on the small toy trunk caught her attention, though, before she could leave. Sitting atop the piles of toys was a small figurine of man. The magic around it was strong, urging her to pick it up.

She almost laughed to see almost an exact replica of Remus, right down to the light brown eyes that glinted with topaz every now and then when Moony took control. It was even wearing the classic brown suit that he seemed to love with the patched elbows.

She knew what it was then. Hermione had asked Remus right after the full moon why Teddy went without question to stay with his grandparents while they became wolves. Remus had told her about the magical doll that changed into a wolf when the full moon was out. Teddy had his father with him in a way during those nights, and was able to spend time with the wolf.

"He accepts the wolf, Remus," she whispered softly to the empty room around her. "Now why can't you?"

She placed the doll back onto the pile and headed back to her room. Teddy had already pulled her pillow toward him, his arms wrapped firmly around it. She laid 'Paddie' within his reach and then moved back out of the room.

The wolf inside of her was restless. She hadn't been able to talk Remus into going with her for a run during the last full moon. He had argued that it would be too dangerous, and she had finally dropped it. She knew she would never win with him.

But now the wolf wanted out. She wanted to run, to feel the dirt underneath her feet and the air on her skin. The night was still young, and she longed for the momentary bout of freedom a run would offer.

She stood in the hall, an indecisive look about her face before she took off the light cardigan she had on. She was still wearing the light cotton lounge pants and tank top she had donned earlier after dinner. She could move about easily in them, she knew.

She peaked into the library on her way toward the front door. Remus was still sleeping soundly in the chair, the blanket threatening to fall from his lap. Pulling the door up shut, she moved on to the front door.

A loud creak pierced the silence of the house, causing Hermione to curse the bad luck of old houses making loud noises, especially when everything else was silent. She didn't wait, though, to see if it woke someone up, but instead dashed out of the house.

The stars twinkled overhead and a nice breeze drifted through, stirring the grass enough to caress her bare feet. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the night dew on the grass, the ground hard beneath her.

Head tilted upward, the moon illuminated her face while she smiled up at it. Throwing caution to the wind, she opened her mouth and let out a howl, calling to the moon to light her path that night, to watch over and protect her.

She would have loved to change, or at least to strip down and enjoy nature against her skin and becoming simply a part of the forest. This, though, was better than nothing. Stretching her arms out over her head, she prepared to start toward the trail.

"Hermione."

Hermione froze at that voice, her body stiffening slightly as she turned to face the newcomer. The moon's light cast a soft glow over him, his scarred torso bare for her to see.

"Fenrir."

**Sorry for the long delay. This time it was because of illness, not school. Almost finished!**

**Thanks for reading, my lovely readers,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	9. Chapter Nine: New Moon

**DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters, places, and/or objects belong to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing them for a short adventure in which I become the puppeteer and they are my marionettes.**

**Beta: MoonyNZ**

**When the Moon Howls**

_There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. --George Carlin (1937-2008)_

**Chapter Nine: New Moon**

The wolf fought hard against the restraints his human placed upon him. Struggling, he wanted free. She was here, the one he desired, the one that accepted the wolf as well as the human. That other one had not even tried…

Light brown eyes turned amber as the wolf found control. He bared his teeth and thrashed against the chair, still fighting. His mouth opened in a howl as the wolf found dominance, his senses reeling as he sought out her smell….

_Meanwhile…._

Hermione stared at the man in front of her, half of her wanting to run back into the house while the other half of her craved to run straight back into his arms. "Fenrir," she heard herself whisper once more, her hand lifting on its own out toward him.

He brushed his tangled hair out of his face and took a step toward her, his own hand turning up invitingly. Just before he reached her, though, he paused, his head turning slightly to the side as he smelt the air.

A growl issued from him, his eyes flashing as they turned toward the house. "Wolf," he growled, staring at something over her shoulder.

Hermione turned and saw Remus standing there in the doorway. He had not taken time to put on shoes, she noticed, and his hair was slightly dishevelled. What caught her notice the most, though, was his eyes. They were lit amber.

"Remus," she whispered, turning to step in front of Fenrir in an almost protective manner. When Fenrir stepped forward, Hermione threw her hand back to stop him. "Moony," she said, her voice stronger this time, "you should go back inside…"

"No," Moony growled. He stepped down out of the doorway and started toward them. "Go inside, Hermione, and stay there."

This time, it was her that growled as she kept her hand firmly on Fenrir to stop him from charging forward. "I'm not your mate, Moony, for you to boss around."

"She's mine," Fenrir growled from behind her. His arm wrapped possessively around her, his hand coming to a rest on her stomach. "Go wolf, go back inside to your pup."

Remus tilted back his head and howled. Hermione noted, a bit ironically, that Remus allowed the wolf inside of him full control. Moony's eyes connected with hers. She stiffened against Fenrir.

Hermione's eyes drifted to the house. She looked at the window that led into Teddy's room. He was in her room on the other side of the house and safe for the moment, but she didn't want to contemplate his safety should the two wolves start to fight. Fenrir may see the value of pups, but he would strike the other wolf at his heart-his son.

Her thoughts raced, then, her mind whirling as she contemplated the choice before her. She was happy with Remus, she knew, and could play at family, but she also knew that she would never love him.

Remus represented safety to her. He was her last link to her past and everyone that she had loved. She longed for that connection, and she cared for Teddy, but were those reasons enough to choose him over?

And then there was Fenrir….

She had loathed him when she had first been bitten by him and then later taken only to be held prisoner. But, she admitted to herself, her feelings for him had changed over the past months. He had changed too…

The feelings within her that had lay dormant for so long flared up whenever he was around. He had released the wolf inside her. She longed for that freedom once more.

She gripped Fenrir's hand that rested against her stomach and offered him a smile as she stepped away from him. She saw the slight confusion in his eyes, but he masked it well and watched as she moved away from him and toward the other wolf.

Taking Moony's hands in her own, she smiled up at him. "Moony," she said, giving his hands a soft squeeze, "you are one of my closest friends that I have left and I love you dearly…"

"But?"

"But I'm not in love with you." She reached up and cupped his face in her palm.

"And you are with him?" he growled.

She turned her head to see Fenrir still standing there, watching them closely. She turned back to Moony and smiled sadly. "Once upon a time I hated him, honestly. I still see his ruthlessness, but I also see the other sides of him too."

"Hermione…"

"Remus," she said firmly, addressing the human within. "I need Fenrir like you need to release the wolf within you. He's a part of me as Moony is a part of you." She stepped away, allowing his hands to fall out of her grasp. "I'm in love with him," she admitted softly, not only to him but to herself as well.

Fenrir held out his hand as she came closer, and she took it, entangling her fingers with his. She smiled back at Remus, noticing the eyes slowly shifting back to their normal light brown colour. "Tell Teddy that I love him and that I'll miss him."

Remus nodded sadly as he walked backward toward the door, his eyes never leaving them. "You'll come by and see him, won't you?"

Hermione looked toward Fenrir who answered, "She'll come." He wrapped one arm firmly around Hermione. "But know this wolf, if you ever try to take my mate from me again, I will not hesitate to kill you. Only for my mate are you and your pup allowed to live now."

The wolf inside Remus recognized the alpha in Fenrir, and nodded his head in subservience. He cast one last look at Hermione before turning and walking back inside of the house with a downcast head.

"Come mate," Fenrir whispered in her ear, his nose nuzzling her neck softly. "Let's go home."

xOx

_Four years later…_

Hermione sat on the bank of the river and washed the last bit of dirt from her skin. She let the cold water trickle down her now lightly tanned skin. She slid on down into the cold water, walking further into the river until the water covered a good portion of her naked body. She leaned her head back and washed out her long curls, running her fingers through them to untangle them.

Her brown eyes turned toward the eastern hill when she heard a twig snapped. The corners of her mouth twitched upward into a smile as she surveyed her watcher. "You're losing your touch, Fenrir."

A smile- once rare to see upon him- broke out on his face as he walked on down the hill, sliding down into the water to join her. "You entranced me, mate," he whispered, his hands sliding up her naked body. His thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts as he nipped her neck playfully.

Hermione wrapped her arm around his neck and smiled against him. Her other arm wrapped around his back, her fingers lightly tracing a scar that ran down the length of it. "Don't you have better things to do than to watch me bathe?" she teased, tilting her head to the side to grant him better access.

"This is the best thing I can think of doing," he answered. One of his hands drifted downward, stroking her skin with dancing fingertips. He teased her with a finger as he nibbled a path along her collarbone.

She raked her nails down his back as her leg rose, wrapping around him. She rubbed against him, smiling suggestively as he lifted his head up to look at her. His eyes flashed possessively as he adjusted and thrust, easily entering her.

"Oh yeah," she moaned softly, her head tilting backward, "I think this is the best thing you can be doing." She pulled his head down with the one arm still wrapped around his neck until she could capture his mouth, her teeth tugging playfully at his lower lip.

"Mate," he growled softly, thrusting against her. His fingers ran down to her hips, lifting up so that she could wrap both legs around him now and he could get a better angle. "Hermione," he moaned, his mouth crashing down on hers.

Later, Fenrir lay beside Hermione on the grassy bank, one arm wrapped around her waist as he idly nuzzled her skin. She snuggled back against him as the sun warmed their skin. His hand rested against her stomach, caressing the small bump there.

"Where's Faolan?" she asked after a while, covering his hand with her own.

"Aladayne is watching him," he said, referring to the wolf that had once guarded her and now guarded the packs most precious treasure- their son.

Hermione smiled as a soft breeze drifted over them, the long blades of the grass caressing their bare skin. She entangled her fingers through his as she let the sounds of the forest wrap around her. Occasionally, she could hear a howl from one of the pack off in the distance, but both were content where they were and so stayed.

While laying there, Hermione remembered the days that had followed when she had left willingly with Fenrir. He had relocated the pack, more out of safety for them rather than fear of Remus. He had found an abandoned cabin back in the woods near a cave that would be suitable for a den. He had fixed up the cabin with her help while the pack had made their home in the cave.

She had discovered she was pregnant just a month later. Fenrir's protective nature showed then as he ensured that she had at least two of the pack with her at all times if he couldn't be there. Aladayne she didn't mind as he would snuggle right up to her and play, but the other, Delyn, remained aloof.

Fenrir had brought her a bear pelt that he had retrieved himself the night she had given birth to Faolan. He had laid it across her almost tenderly as he took the baby from her arms, cradling him gently as Hermione slept. He had stayed with her through the night with the small boy in his arms as pack members took turns guarding the door.

He had taken her to Remus' two days later when she had been able to walk. Aladayne had accompanied them, brushing his head against her leg every so often in a comforting gesture. Fenrir had escorted her right to his door, one arm wrapped around Hermione's shoulders as she held the baby. Aladayne had stayed back in the shadows of the treeline.

Teddy had been thrilled to see her, even more excited at the child in her arms. Remus had been shocked for a minute, but had granted them a room while he checked over Hermione's health. She had needed some potions to help her recover while Faolan had been pronounced to be in full health.

Fenrir and Remus had learned to deal with each other over the three days that Hermione had needed to be treated. Fenrir still maintained his possessiveness and there were times when Hermione was afraid that he would challenge Remus, but they both behaved.

Fenrir doted on Faolan. He even took to Teddy who was his ever lovable self. The little boy gave Faolan one of his favourite toys- a little stuffed grey wolf with bright amber eyes called 'Wolfie.' Faolan now refused to sleep without the toy.

When they had left to head back to the pack, Remus and Fenrir had entered into an unspoken truce. Both wanted Hermione's, and now Faolan's, safety and were willing to work together to achieve that. They had retained contact with him in the years since.

Now, with Hermione's second pregnancy, Fenrir was preparing to take her back to Remus' so she could be there when she gave birth. That way, he had told her when she had questioned his decision, she could be near help if something happened. Faolan was excited about going back to see the boy who had once given him 'Wolfie.'

Some might have questioned Fenrir, but he was still the alpha of the pack. He was gentle with her and Faolan, but he was also strict and cruel when the moment called for it. He was a ruthless leader, doing whatever was necessary to insure the safety of his mate, pup, and pack.

Hermione rolled over in the grass to face Fenrir, her hand resting against his chest as she smiled at him. He smiled back, his fingers now toying with her curls. She moved her fingers up to trace a scar on his neck where a bear had once struck him.

"Faolan did magic this morning," she told him. She felt his fingers still and she looked down at his chest. "He couldn't control it, of course…"

"Hermione…"

"He'll need training," she went on, ignoring his interruption. "I remember when I first started displaying magic and I couldn't control it. It scared both me and my parents, Fenrir. Most wizarding children go to a primary magic school. Maybe…"

"Hermione, he would never be accepted. The son of two werewolves would be ridiculed enough, but being my son he will go in with a target on his back." His eyes flashed dangerously as the wolf side of him completely took over. "I will not put our child in risk."

She nodded, her fingers still lightly tracing his scar. "Maybe I could teach him?" she suggested softly. "Perhaps we could see if Remus would help me and we could school him?"

Fenrir rolled over onto his back as he raised his hand to his own head, a soft growl of frustration leaving him. "He's two."

"Almost three," she said, rolling over to stare down at her. "Teddy needs to be taught as well and they're close in age." She smiled, cupping his face in her hands. "It'd give Faolan someone close to his own age to play with."

"There are pups…"

"_Human_ people his own age," she corrected. "At least think about it. We could make a decision when we go to his house in a few months."

Fenrir didn't say anything for a while as he laid there, the sun gleaming off his tanned skin. "I'll think about it," he agreed finally.

Hermione snuggled up against him, her smile widening as he wrapped his arm around her and held her. She kissed his neck lightly before standing. He watched as she pulled on a dress she had fashioned from a deer's hide he had brought home.

He could see the mark where he had bitten her the night before on her hip for a moment before she pulled the dress down over it. She held her hand out to him and he took it, pushing himself up off the ground.

The two walked back toward the pack hand in hand, back toward where their son waited with Aladayne, and back to the cabin where they made their home.

_Fin_.

**Thanks for reading! I'll be posting some oneshots soon and then I hope to work on the sequel for Disaster's Sweet Seduction. **

**As always, much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


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